


Incubus

by after_avenging_hours



Series: Incubus [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes AU, F/M, Incubus Bucky, incubus au, marvel AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-07 17:02:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 60,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11627949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/after_avenging_hours/pseuds/after_avenging_hours
Summary: When some of the best sex of your life leads to the unveiling of a world you barely even knew existed, you know you’re in a heap of trouble.  James Buchanan Barnes is the kind of man that fills your deepest and darkest fantasies, mainly because he is one.  When emotions get involved in a relationship that’s been founded on sex, there’s no turning back.  And honestly, you’re not even sure if you want to.





	1. Chapter 1

You walked into the club, not really knowing what to expect. You’d spent the last several months avoiding this area of town like the plague ever since the club was erected. Like the work of ghosts, the building had been absent one day and there the next.  No one else had thought the sudden appearance of the building was strange, and that’s how you knew.  Not the work of ghosts… but  _demons_.

This part of town was like a hunting ground for them. All sorts of shenanigans and depravity filled these streets, whether day or night, rain or shine.  The inside of the club was worse than what you’d find outside.

Every form of debauchery you could think of could be witnessed ten times over in the room, even with just a quick scan from right to left. Women in dresses tighter than their own skin walked about in heels as high as skyscrapers, their faces painted to hide even the most miniscule of imperfections.  Men holding glasses filled with ice and stiff liquor jeered and guffawed at anyone who got too close.  Sometimes ‘too close’ meant clear from the other side of the room.

Pole dancers gyrated their hips to the booming music, hypnotizing all from their raised platforms.  Flashing laser lights cut through the haze of the room, giving very brief flashes of color to the otherwise dismal darkness.  The bar, showcasing an LED countertop, provided the only other light source to the room.

You knew better than to go over there.  Should one drop of those poisoned drinks taint your lips, you’d be consumed instantly.

Across the sea of bumping and grinding bodies on the dance floor, thick burgundy drapes covered the entrance to the  _private_  rooms.  Though it seems many of the club’s patrons had no qualms with publicly indulging in their private actions.  To your left a man had a woman pinned face down on a table, thrusting into her from behind.  At the bar, a man was sitting backward on his stool, elbows leaning back against the glowing counter top, his pants at his knees while a woman kneeled between his legs.

In the 5 seconds it took for you to analyze the room, your head was already screaming at you to leave.  Although, admittedly your head had been screaming at you all night long. And admittedly, you’d been ignoring it all night long.

Looking around, it wasn’t difficult to determine that less than  _half_  of the people occupying this room were human.  Drawn in by the loud music and heady atmosphere, some had come to experience the best night of their life.  Others would not be so lucky.

You  _knew_  that you shouldn’t be here.  Not with your abilities.  But your curiosity had won over the self-preservative instincts within you. You’d never been this close to creatures of the night, having been sheltered from this part of your life. But now that you were old enough to make your own decisions, you’d decided to come.

Clearly it was a bad idea.

Turning on your pointed heels, you begin to move for the door. You only make it three steps before a man steps in front of you.

His eyes appear black at first, but when a flash of light grazes his pale face, you catch a glimmer of red.   _Vampire_. A  _hungry_  vampire.  “Hello, sweetness.”

You gulp down your fear, hoping to play it off as human innocence instead.  “Hello,” you greet.

His face leans down and it takes everything within you not to lean back.  His predatory gaze catches yours.  “Why don’t you and I head to the back?  I can promise you a good time.”

You stare back, blinking once.  “Um, that’s alright.  I was just leaving.”  That was your first mistake.

You move to step around him, intent on making your way to the door.  That was your second mistake.

You feel the ice-cold touch on your wrist moments before his fingers close around your fragile bones like a vice.  The low growl that escapes his lips somehow manages to drown out the pumping bass.  It makes the blood tremble in your veins.  “Your kind is not welcome here!” his eyes are now glowing with the red of anger and hatred.  His lips are bared, teeth sharper than knives taunting you with every glint of the light.

It’s become infinitely more difficult to suppress the fear within you.  You tug at his hold, wincing when he only tightens it further.  “I already told you, I’m leaving!  Now let me go.”

You’re not sure if it was just the power of your words, or if you’d actually managed to do something else, but the vampire has suddenly released you, hissing angrily as if he’d been burned.

You stumble back, not having expected the quick release, only to collide with another.  Your back hits a massive chest, body heat engulfing you almost instantly.  You’re then overwhelmed by the most intoxicating scent.  Spice and passion.  It smells like the best sex you’ve only ever dreamed of.

A hand presses to your lower abdomen, aiding in your stabilization after your tumble.  An inhuman heat flows from the hand, pooling deep in your belly.  The unmentionable place between your legs clenches eagerly, the soaking of your panties isn’t too far behind.

You feel the man’s breath against your neck, giving you the gentlest of caresses before his lips graze the outer shell of your ear. “If you plan of living through the night, I suggest you come with me  _right now_.”

Whoever this man is, he has the voice of dreams.   _Wet dreams_  to be more specific.  Husky, yet soft.  The kind of voice that could make even the most elegant of poetry sound downright sinful.

You’re not sure if this is one of those ‘out of the frying pan and into the fire’ situations, but between Mr. Sexy Voice and Mr. Angry Vampire, the choices aren’t that difficult.

You find yourself nodding, tucking yourself a little further against the man’s chest.  And though you don’t necessarily feel  _safe_  with him… You definitely feel  _safer_.

“I’ll take care of this, Anthony,” the mystery man speaks, voice dripping with sex appeal.

The vampire continues to glare, but slowly backs off. “See that you do, James.”

It’s not until after the Vampire has disappeared back into the crowd that  _James_ releases you.  It takes you a moment to build the courage to turn and face him, not knowing if you even  _want_  to know who  _or what_ you’ve just agreed to leave with.  Your breath catches in your throat when you look into his ungodly beautiful face.

And yes.  This was  _definitely_  one of those ‘out of the frying pan and into the fire’ situations.  Because you were now staring into the sultry gaze of a powerful incubus.

The first thought to flash through your mind is  _Oh fuck me_.  And holy hell is ‘fuck me’ right.

Only  _you_  would choose a sex demon over a vampire.

His azure gaze seems to glow within the dark room, pulling you in and casting you under his spell.  His lips, plump to perfection, tilt up ever so slightly in amusement. “Shall we, Lumina?”

He doesn’t give you much chance to respond.  Placing a hand against your lower back, he guides you toward the door.  His hand placement is nothing less than gentlemanly, but the heat continues to pool deep into your core.

Stepping outside, the crisp evening air does nothing to quell the heat steadily building within your body.  You know that you should run.  That you should get as far away from this place as possible.  But somehow you find yourself allowing James to guide you to an expensive looking car, darker than the midnight sky above you.

He pulls the passenger door open, revealing the sleek leather interior.  Your heart beats in your throat as you lower yourself onto the seat.  He shuts the door and walks around the front to get to the driver’s side.  His movements appear effortless, like water flowing over rocks as he settles into his own seat.

The engine purrs with a swift turn of the key and soon you’re on the road.

“Where are we going?” you ask, your voice not sounding nearly as elegant as you would have hoped around such perfection.

His piercing gaze remains focused on the road ahead. “Home,” he tells you simply.

You’re not sure how this complete stranger knows where you live, but you  _are_ sure that you don’t really  _want_  to know, so you keep quiet.

It’s not until the vehicle is turning into the underground parking lot of one of the expensive apartment buildings downtown that you realize he didn’t mean  _your_ home.

Your fingers clench around the bottom edge of your dress, the material coming to your mid-thigh.  It was a dress you’d had to borrow from one of your friends, because you normally weren’t caught dead wearing such attire.  But you’d wanted to blend in tonight.  Obviously, that hadn’t happened at all.

The car pulls into a spot near the elevators, surrounded by other luxurious cars, each costing more than you’d make in a lifetime. You’re so lost to your thoughts, you don’t realize that James has stepped out of the car until your door is opening.  He holds a hand out to you, palm facing up.  You stare at it a moment.  His skin is smooth, lightly tanned.  Just by looking, you couldn’t tell how hot his touch could actually be.  His hands looked normal.  Human.

“Come, Lumina,” he encourages gently.  He waits patiently for you watching as your hand hesitantly reaches forward.  Your fingertips brush against his, feeling the instant rush of heat before your palms meet.  You can feel the heat crawling up your whole arm as he carefully pulls you out of the car.

Once you’re on your feet, he releases your hand, moving back to place it against your lower back.  “I have a name, you know,” you mutter quietly.

He releases a low chuckle, the sound reverberating through your entire body.  “Feel free to enlighten me then.”  With a light pressure to your back, he gets the two of you moving.

“It’s Y/N,” you divulge after a moment of hesitation.

He smiles down at you and, for a moment, you completely forget that he’s a demon.  Surely an angel could only have such a sweet smile.  “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.  I’m James.”

The way he says your name, it makes you shiver.  It’s like silk.

He guides you to the elevator.  Instead of there being a button to call the elevator down, there’s a key slot.  James’ keys jingle like soft bells between his fingers as he lifts the correct key and places it in the slot.  With a turn to the right, the elevator doors open.  The two of you step through.

The tile at your feet is a deep red marble.  You can’t help but compare it to the color of blood.  The walls are a metallic gold, giving the appearance of being warm and inviting. You know better.

You realize that there are no buttons for the floors just as the doors begin to close.  The elevator rises.  You feel your stomach sink lower and lower with each passing second that the elevator continues to ascend.  Any longer and you’re sure you’ll be kissing the clouds.

You can’t help the small breath of relief when the elevator finally comes to a stop.  The doors open into a hallway, wall sconces on the right illuminate the path.  With a gentle nudge to your back, James guides you out.  Your heels click against the tiled floor as you walk down the hall.   _His_  steps are completely silent.

The hall opens into a spacious living room.  Your shoes sink into the plush carpet.  Directly in front of you, the floor to ceiling windows showcase a view of the entire city.  To the left is a couch facing the wall, where a massive flat screen TV hangs above the entertainment center.

James drops his hand from your back, his fingers just barely trailing over the curve of your ass as he does so.  His touch is light enough that it could have been an accident, but you’re pretty sure it wasn’t.  He moves toward the couch, unbuttoning and shrugging out of his black suit jacket as he does so.  He folds the jacket neatly, resting it over the back of the couch.

This is your first chance to truly observe him under good lighting conditions.  Black seems to be a theme with him.  Black slacks, black shirt, black tie.  His dark chocolate hair is coiffed neatly back, the strands looking soft and just long enough to tug on while in the throes of passion.  There’s just a hint of stubble dotting his sharp jawline.

The color of his eyes dance between blue and grey beneath the lights.  He’s caught you staring.

You avert your gaze.

“Why did you bring me here?” you ask, fiddling with the edge of your dress once more.

He leans back against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest.  His gaze sweeps over you in turn.  “Is this not what you wanted?”

Again, your body reacts to the lull of his voice. It’s an involuntary response.  You look at him in confusion.

His lips curl into a devilish smirk, “You had ample opportunity to stop me, Lumina.”  He’s gone back to the nickname to tease you.

You shift from foot to foot.  That may be true, but to give yourself some credit, you’d thought he was taking you  _home_.  _Your_  home.  Your lips fall into a slight frown.

After a moment, James’ lips do the same.  “What were you doing at the club?”

You find yourself mimicking his stance, crossing your arms over your chest.  However, you do it defensively.  You look away, jaw set in defiance.  “That’s none of your business.”

If you were watching him, you would have seen the tick in his jaw.  “It  _is_  my business when it causes problems.”

“I wasn’t doing anything wrong!” you huff in annoyance.

His head tilts as he gives you a slightly condescending look. “The first wrong you committed was stepping through the door.”

You roll your eyes childishly, walking away from him to stand in front of the window.  You look over the city, silently fuming.  You didn’t know what the big deal was.  You were about to leave anyways.

You don’t hear him move, but moments later you can feel his body heat against the back of your left shoulder and his reflection appears in the glass of the window.  “A group of werewolves were planning to follow you home.  I trust that you would not have welcomed their company.”  Your gaze meets his in the glass.  “So instead I took you somewhere you’d be safe.”

Turning your head, you meet his gaze once more, from over your shoulder.  “And am I?” you question.  “Safe here?” you clarify.

His gaze darkens to a deep, stormy grey.  “That’s entirely up to you.”

You feel chills run up your spine; ripping your gaze from his you look back out the window.  You’re not sure if they were good or bad chills.  You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you feel his heat disappear and you slowly let it out.  Your heart is beating wildly in your chest.

You stare out the window without really seeing as your mind races with your different options. So, yes, he did technically bring you to  _his_  home.  But he also may have  _technically_  saved your life. If you staid here, though, it was  _highly_ likely that you were going to end up naked and in his bed.  But if you’d gone home, with those werewolves on your tail, you probably would have had a similar fate, only worse.  Much worse. At least with an incubus, the sex was guaranteed to be good…

You try to shake those thoughts out of your mind.

His warmth engulfs you once more.  “Here,” his hand appears in your line of vision, holding a glass filled with clear liquid.  You stare at it a long moment.  “It’s water,” he informs you, with a soft sigh of annoyance.

You carefully pull the glass from his fingers, cradling it between your palms and continuing to eye it warily.  You glance up at him.

He rolls his eyes.  “If I wanted you in my bed, I wouldn’t need drugs to do it.”

You lift the glass to your lips, taking a tentative sip. He wasn’t lying.  It’s water.  The expensively purified kind.  “What  _would_  you need?” you find yourself asking before you can tell your brain to shut its trap.

His lips tilt back up into a smirk, his eyes twinkling in mirth.  “Only your permission.”

He says it with such conviction.  Like he already  _knows_  that you’re going to give it to him.

Your cheeks flush a light pink and you turn back to face the window hoping to shield your embarrassment from him.  You lift the glass back to your lips, gulping the rest of the water down in the hopes it might quell the heat that’s becoming nearly unbearable inside you.

Your shoulders tense when you feel the brush of his shirt against your back.  “I’m going to ask you again,” he states directly into your ear, with a tone of finality.  “What were you doing at the club?”

Your hands clench around the empty glass, you’re almost surprised it doesn’t crack.  “Nothing,” you respond.  “I just wanted to see it.”

“Why?”

“I…” you hesitate, at a loss.  “I don’t know.  Curiosity, I guess?”

His hands move to your hips, turning you around to face him. “Curiosity?” he repeats.

You shrug a shoulder, not quite able to meet his gaze. “I’ve been told my whole life to stay away from Under Clubs.  I wanted to see what the fuss was about.”

James raises an eyebrow, he doesn’t know whether to be impressed by your courage or surprised by your stupidity.  “And you thought you’d just wander in through the front door, like a curious little kitten?” He questions.  His darkened gaze bores deep into your soul.  “Are there  _other_  things tonight that have piqued your curiosity, Lumina?”

Despite the water you’d just drank, you can feel your throat run dry at his suggestive undertone.  You look up at him through your lashes.  “I don’t think I know what you mean,” you tell him, but oh god is it a lie.  You know  _exactly_ what he means.

You catch the way his eyes flicker down to your lips.  “I must admit, I might be a little curious myself. I’ve never been with someone of your kind before.”

That gets your brow to furrow.  That’s the second time tonight that someone has said that to you.  _Your kind_.  You repeat the phrase in confusion.  “My kind? You’ve never been with a human?” Surely that couldn’t be right. Incubi  _survived_ off sex with humans.  There’s no way James could have come this far, grown this powerful, without doing so.

He gives you a knowing look, “You’re not  _just_  a human, Lumina.”

You shake your head at him.  “What are you talking about?  Of course I am.”

He looks at you in mild surprise, realization dawning his features.  “You have no idea, do you?” he asks briefly.  “Tell me.  Do you know what I am?”  His eyes wash over your face, looking for the truth in your expression.

“An incubus,” you respond.

“And how do you know that?”

You open your mouth to respond, but then hesitate.  You don’t really know  _how_ to respond.  “I-I don’t know.  I just do.”

James’ fingers brush against your jaw before he hooks your chin between his thumb and forefinger.  “Normal humans don’t  _just know_  things, Lumina.  Normal humans don’t walk into an Under Club to ‘see what the fuss is about’.   _Normal_ humans don’t just blink out of a vampire compulsion.”  With each sentence, he looms just a little closer, his breath tantalizing your lips.  “You, my dear… are no  _normal_ human.”

His words have barely begun to spin in your mind when suddenly his lips are on yours.

You moan, both in shock and arousal.  People who say they’ve never felt fireworks during a kiss, clearly have never kissed an incubus.  You thought his touch could set you on fire?  You’d had absolutely  _no_  idea! It was like sparks and meteor showers and hell, the god damn Aurora Borealis were going off inside your body!

You thought you were hot before?  But now it felt like you were going nuclear.

You don’t even register the feeling of the glass slipping from your fingers.  It lands with a dull thud on the carpet.

Your freed hands are everywhere, your mind filled with too many explosions that you can’t decide where you want them to stop.  They grip his shirt, clench round his tie, slide up his neck, cradle his jaw.  Your fingers run through his hair and Jesus fuck, it’s softer than you could have imagined. The strands glide like silk against your palms.  It doesn’t even feel like he’s used any hair product to keep it in place.

Your nails scratch lightly at his scalp, eliciting a low growl from deep in his chest.  He steps forward, pinning your body between his chest and the window.  A startled gasp leaves your lips from the contrast of the cold glass against your heated skin.  James takes advantage of the opportunity, slipping his tongue between your parted lips.

You can’t help but release another moan.  He tastes better than he smells!  Like some kind of combination of spicy and sweet.  Maybe cinnamon, or ginger?  But also something uniquely him, something that almost tastes like fire.

Everything about this man is the embodiment of fire. You’re not sure if it’s a demon thing, or if it’s all him.

You’re so caught up in kissing him and feeling his hair between your fingers, you forget the tiny necessity you have for breathing. Lucky for you, James chooses this moment to start a trail of kisses across your jaw and down your neck.

You keep your lips parted, taking in huge gulping breaths. Each kiss he leaves against your skin feels like a brush of star dust, leaving your skin tingling in its wake. Your hands clench around the strands at the back of his head when he hits a particularly sensitive spot.  “Oh, James,” you sigh breathlessly.

His hands glide down your waist and over the curve of your ass to grip the back of your thighs.  He hoists you up, guiding your legs around his waist, never removing his face from where it’s buried in your neck.  You grip his wide shoulders when he steps away from the window.  You can feel your heels beginning to slip from your feet, but there’s nothing you can do to stop them as they fall to the carpeted floor.

James walks with perfect poise and balance toward the bedroom, seeming unbothered by your added weight in his arms.  He gently lays you out on the center of the bed, settling himself over you.  You blink up at him, his blue eyes the only clarity through the haze of pleasure.  Your hands reach up to frame his jaw.  The light stubble on his cheeks tickle your palms.  You guide his face back to yours.

You share another open-mouthed kiss as James lowers his hips, cradling them between your thighs.  Your whimpers are quieted by his mouth when you feel his bulge rocking against you.  At this point, the tiny slip of fabric you call your panties has completely soaked through with your arousal.  Your body is ready,  _begging_  for this.

Your hands slide down his neck before reaching the collar of his shirt.  Fingers wrapping around his tie, you slowly begin to work it loose.  Once it’s free, you pull it away from his neck and allow it to fall to the floor.  You then start on the buttons of his shirt.  It’s a meticulous process, especially when you’re distracted by his plump lips and roaming hands.

When the last button is finally freed, you push the fabric open, and begin the exploration process with your hands.  Ropes of tightly coiled muscle glide beneath plains of smooth skin.  You can feel the prominent ridges of his muscle groups, the pectorals, abdominals, and making your way around his ribs, you can feel the edge of his latissimus dorsi.

Pulling away from his lips, you can’t help but to look upon such a perfect specimen.  He was designed perfectly for every woman’s fantasies.  “You look like you should be on the cover of an adult romance novel,” you find yourself muttering.

James chuckles deeply, his eyes shining in amusement.  “Only if you are my leading lady.”

Your fingers brush across his clavicle before moving out and over his shoulders to push the shirt further back.  A blemish against the skin of his left shoulder grabs your attention.  Directly centered over his deltoid, is a blackened star.  Your fingers brush over it, feeling the raised skin beneath.  It’s almost as if he’d been burned.  Branded.

“What is this?” you ask in a hushed whisper, your brow furrowing.

His eyes remain locked on your face, reading your expressions like an open book.  “Something from a past not worth remembering,” he tells you.

Something about the way he says that, it makes your heart clench.  Pushing up onto your elbows, you lean forward to place a gentle kiss against the mark. The action had been impulsive, and it was already done before you even realized you were doing it.  Pulling back, you meet his gaze cautiously, hoping you hadn’t offended him.

His gaze darkens to a predatory look.  Though he’s not particularly threatening.  It takes you a moment to realize that he’s  _aroused_.

Being an incubus, James had grown accustomed to the frenzied reactions of women absolutely dying to lay with him.  It was normal.  The demonic energy within him called forth their hurried and needy actions. And yes, he was using them to feed, but they were using him just as well, desperate for a night of pure pleasure.

He’d never been treated in such a gentle manner before. Most women didn’t even bother to notice the mark, yet alone ask about it.  And then to place such a sweet and gentle kiss against a mark that has only caused him pain, it made a different kind of warmth settle deep in his bones. A warmth he wasn’t used to.  The kind of warmth that could blossom into feelings deeper than he could understand.

He pushes the shirt the rest of the way off his arms, tossing it uncaringly to the side.  He lowers himself over you once more, lips brushing delicately over yours before trailing across your cheek and down your neck.  Your hands roam up and down his back, feeling how the muscles shift with every movement.  His mouth makes its way down your chest, pausing a moment to feel the drum of your heartbeat against his lips.  The beat is strong, and fast, pumping your precious life force through your adrenaline filled body.

He pulls back once more.  You feel his hands at your waist, slowly gliding over the fabric of your dress as they move up your body.  They skirt teasingly around the curve of your breasts before his dexterous fingers are wrapping around the low collar of your dress.  With a swift tug in opposite directions, the dress tears down the middle, straight to your belly button.

You gasp in shock, the expansion of your lungs making your breasts press deliciously against the cups of your brassiere.  “James!”

His eyes flash with blue fire, the tip of his tongue sliding over his bottom lip as he observes the feast that’s just become unveiled to him.  “I’ll buy you a new one,” he tells you, referring to the now ruined dress.

You huff out a small laugh.  “Technically it isn’t mine.”

“Then I’ll buy your friend a new one.”  Leaving no room for further discussion, James continues the trail of kisses where he last left off.  His mouth glides over the top of your cups, his tongue occasionally darting out to slip beneath the lacy fabric.  Moving between the valley of your breasts, he then uses his teeth to nibble just below the under wiring.

He seems to know exactly what he needs to do to turn your body into a whimpering mess.  He leaves more nips and butterfly kisses as he continues down.  Once he’s hit the bottom of the rip, his fingers grip the fabric at your waist and he tugs just a little more.  He rips the dress inch by inch, following each rip with a kiss to the newly revealed skin.

It seems to last both years and milliseconds until his lips are grazing the top of your panties.  James uses one last tug to completely rip the dress open, all the way down to the bottom seam.  He groans from deep in the back of his throat, his nose nudging at the elastic of your undies. “You are ready for me, Lumina.  I can  _smell_  it.”

A whimpering gasp leaves you, your thighs spreading just a little further of their own accord.   _Everything_  beneath that tiny slip of fabric was positively throbbing.  Your clit aches for attention.  Your folds glisten with slick.  Your walls clench, over and over, desperate to have something to hold onto.

James hooks a finger underneath your panties, prying it to the side, to uncover the present beneath.  He licks his lips once more, eyes darkening to black.  And then his mouth is on you.  It’s not much, just a simple swipe from bottom to top.  But holy fuck is it enough.

Your cry out, back arching.  The heat from his tongue feels spectacular against you, the warmth lingering long after he’s done.  It gets you so dangerously close to the edge, if he just  _breathes_  on you the right way, it will be enough to push you over.

James seems to know this, because he pulls back. Instead of continuing what you desperately need him to continue, he begins to pull your panties down your legs. All you want is for him to rip them off, like he had your dress, but he doesn’t.  Inch by agonizing inch, he pulls them down your thighs and passed your calves.

His gaze, full of hunger and need, sweeps over your exposed body.  “Do I have your permission, Lumina?” he asks, true to his words from earlier.

“Yes,” you moan wantonly, shifting restlessly against his sheets.  “James, please.”

He hurriedly, yet still with that inhuman elegance, sheds the remainder of his clothes.  Another groan escapes you when his bare flesh is revealed.  He’s big.  Not monstrously so, but he’s bigger than any man you’ve been with before.

When your gaze slowly makes its way up his body length and back to his eyes, you find that he’s already staring back, watching your observation of him.  Your appreciation pleases him.

He leans forward and settles back over you.  “You may feel dizzy,” he tells you.  “It is not uncommon for women to pass out from the pleasure.”  His warning is not with the intent to scare, but rather to inform you so you may be better prepared.

You nod slowly.  “Okay.”

One of his hands reach underneath your back.  He pinches at the clasp of your bra, and soon removes your last article of clothing.  His nose brushes against yours, eyes locked together as his hand trails down the length of your body.  He finds the apex of your thighs.  He feels your slick against the pads of his fingers, hot and wet.  He sinks one finger into you.

You gasp, hips arching up to meet the gentle thrust of his intrusion.  His finger hooks into your upper wall.  It swirls in slow circles, pulling even more slick from your cunt.  He pushes a second finger in.  Your limbs already feel like putty.  All he’s trying to do is prepare your body, but it’s so deliciously satisfying you know you could get off if he were to keep this up just a little longer.

You whimper at the loss when he pulls his fingers back. He hushes you with a sweet kiss to your cupid’s bow.  Using the slick glazed over his fingers and palm, he coats the length of his cock. His stokes are languid, an accentuated movement from base to tip.  The veins in his shaft seem to throb almost painfully.

Once James is satisfied, he guides the tip of his cock to your entrance. Your breaths come a little more quickly as the anticipation builds.  And then he’s pushing inside you.

And boy did you feel it.

It was like millions of Christmas lights glimmering inside your body.  You could  _feel_  each individual synapse firing in your central nervous system, telling your brain that  _holy fuck this feels good_.  Your body blossoms like a rose, opening completely up to him, despite his girth and length.

He pushes in to the hilt, settling with your hips flush to his. He guides your legs around his waist, allowing him to sink  _just_  a little further.  The room spins.  He’s not even fucking moving and you’re completely ready to lose it.

“You gonna pass out on me, Lumina?” he asks with a deep grunt, his breath fanning across your cheeks.

You blink up at him, desperately trying to pull your focus. “No,” you choke out, but with the way your mind swims, you’re not sure how true that statement is.  “Not yet,” you amend.  Because if this is what you’re feeling  _now_ , an orgasm just might kill you.

His lips upturn into a crooked smile.  “Good.”  His hips sink back, giving you just a second to prepare before he snaps forward.

A startled cry rips out of your throat.  The friction of his skin against yours feels astronomical. He thrusts again.  And again.  And again. Giving you a few precious seconds in between to grow used to the feelings of having sex with an incubus.

He builds rhythm with every thrust until it eventually becomes one movement.  You’re not sure how the hell he does it so easily, but he drags his full length against your g-spot every damn time.  Your finger nails claw at his back, raking long lines just to either side of his spine.  He releases a low growl, the vibrations running through your body from where your chests are tightly pressed.

“You feel so good, wrapped around me, Y/N.  Like velvet,” he groans, his next thrust pushing even deeper.

You gasp at the sound of your name on his tongue.  You were beginning to get attached to the nickname, but to hear  _yours_  fall from his lips when you were sharing such an intimate moment, it nearly pushed you over the edge.  “James! Oh  _James!_ ”

His labored breaths tickle your lips as he lowers his face to rest his forehead against yours.  He adds a roll of his hips, grinding his pelvic bone against your clit. He plays you like a fiddle, using his intimate knowledge of the female body, plus the instinct he has that allows him to read  _yours_  specifically.  He knows just what you need, when you need it.  It’s like being with a man that has had  _years_ to explore your body, but you still get the excitement and raw power of being with someone for the first time.

It’s a complete mental trip.  And oh so addicting.

Your hips begin to meet his thrusts, your body more than ready to hit that wall of pleasure.  Your hands make their way back into his hair.  Gripping the locks, you guide his lips back to yours.  You moan into each other’s mouths, the sounds of skin slapping against skin resonating throughout the room.  Your walls begin to flutter and tighten, the closer you get to your release.

James works like a machine, moving faster, thrusting harder, pushing deeper.  He fills your body in ways no human man ever could.  He satisfies a craving you didn’t even realize you had until this very moment. This was the end of sex as you know it, because nothing would ever be able to compare to the sensations you were feeling.

Your climax hits and not only are you seeing stars, but you’re seeing nebulas and galaxies and entire fucking universes.  Repeating James’ name over and over again seems to be the only thing that’s keeping you on earth.  Because even though this is probably the greatest sin you could ever commit, it sure felt a lot like heaven.

James’ body tenses above you, a guttural cry leaving his lips.  A few short thrusts and he stills, pushed as deep as he can go and he’s joining you in euphoria.  You can feel the jerk of his cock inside you, each burst of cum like lava coating your walls. Your arms wrap around him, gripping the back of his shoulders, as your legs tighten around his waist.  You hold him close while his body shudders.  The vibrations nearly send you into a second climax.

He still feels thick and heavy, even after you’ve felt him go soft inside you.  James waits for your own shudders to stop before he makes moves to pull out.  “You still with me?” he asks, voice husky and low.

He reaches a hand up to push some of the tangled mass of hair out of your face.  “Yeah,” you respond breathlessly.  “That was…  _wow_ ,” you don’t even know how to describe it.

James’ mouth curls into a self-satisfied grin.  He leans down for one last peck of your lips before he pushes off the bed.  “I’ll be right back.”  He seems unfazed by his nudity as he turns to walk away, giving you quite the view of his derrière.  He disappears behind a door.

You couldn’t get up to follow even if you wanted to. Everything in your body that may have had substance before was now completely liquified.  It was even becoming difficult to keep your eyes open.

You hear the sound of running water, moments before James reappears, a damp wash cloth in his hands.  He sits next to you on the bed, gently pressing the cloth to your slightly aching but thoroughly satisfied cunt.  “You should sleep, Lumina,” he tells you, noticing how your eyes droop.

“You’re not kicking me out?” you question tiredly.

“Now why would I do that?” he asks.  He sets the cloth aside.  Pulling the comforter over your body, he moves to join you, curling his body around yours.

“I thought that’s how one night stands worked.”  Despite your words, you find yourself curling into him, resting your head on his chest.

He wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you close. “Sleep.”

And like magic, your eyes shut and your mind goes blank.


	2. Chapter 2

James thought it would be strange and uncomfortable to share his bed for the night.  It’s not something he did often.  Or ever.  He was gentlemanly enough to at least wait for his partners to fall asleep, and then he’d leave.  But more often than not, they were already passed out before the deed was even finished. The energy transference of the act as well as the overwhelming pleasure flooding their systems often resulted in loss of consciousness.

It was an unfortunate side effect, and often awkward for young incubi.  Though, James had long since grown used to it.  He’d actually been a little surprised by how responsive you were, even through to the end.  He’d taken a rather large amount of energy out of you.  Hadn’t even done it on purpose.  You just had a lot to give, and so he consumed, maybe even indulged. He’s never felt so much transference after  _one_  coupling.

It’s early morning when he awakens.  You’re still tucked into his side, exactly where you were when you fell asleep.  He feels the sweep of your breath against his chest with your every exhale.  It tickles a little, but it’s nice.  Comforting even.  James would never admit it aloud, but there’s a chance that he may even  _like_  this.

He watches over you for a few minutes.  Your body is going to have to sleep through its recovery.  Based on how much energy he took, James guesses that you’re going to be out until later that night, maybe even until the  _next_  morning.

He knows that it’ll take a lot to disturb you at this time, but he’s still careful when he moves to get out of bed.  Moving to his dresser, he pulls out a pair of loose lounge pants, black like nearly everything in his wardrobe, and he slips them on.

He walks silently out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him.  He then makes his way to the kitchen.

If he’s surprised by the red head sitting at the center island, he doesn’t show it.  He walks straight passed her, making his way to the coffee machine.  The caffeine does absolutely nothing for him, but he finds that he enjoys the taste.

“Didn’t hear you come in,” he mutters to the red head.  The first two cups are missing from the pot, meaning she’s already helped herself.

“You were still asleep,” her voice is dangerously silky.  “Busy night?”

He shrugs casually. Grabbing a mug from the cupboard above the cabinet, he pours his own cup.  “What makes you say that?”

She scoffs.  “Come on, Buck.  This place absolutely wreaks of sex.  And your meal left her shoes in the living room.”

James grunts noncommittally.

“It’s not like you to bring your dinner home with you.”

“Did you need something or did you just come to drink my coffee?” he asks.

She smirks, lips painted just darker than her hair.  “Well, you  _do_  get the expensive stuff.”

He rolls his eyes, “You’re a menace, Talia.”  Placing the pot back on the stand, he joins her at the island, sitting across from her.

“So how many rounds did you manage to get out of her before she passed out.  You didn’t kill her, did you?”

James takes a deep gulp from his coffee.  “Just one. She’s sleeping it off.”

“ _One_?” Talia’s brows arch in surprise.  “How is that possible?  I can sense your energy.  It feels like you just walked out of an orgy.”  She looks at him doubtfully.

He avoids her gaze, shrugging casually again.  “It was good sex.”  He’s not lying, but Talia is  _very_  good at telling when a person is withholding the truth.

She can see right through him. “That good, huh?  Wanna consider sharing?”

His eyes blaze when they lock with hers.  “You _know_  I don’t share.”

She smirks teasingly.  “You can’t fault a girl for trying.”

James takes another sip of his coffee.  He needs to cool his jets.

“So, what is she? Ethereal?”

Ethereals were energy beings, often harnessing powers of lightning or fire.  They normally stuck to their own kind.  James had only ever been with one once.  That had been a hell of a night.

“No,” he responds simply.

“James?”  The two of them stiffen when your voice drifts across the pent house.

Talia’s gaze narrows dangerously at him.  Even an Ethereal wouldn’t be up this early after the amount of energy he consumed.

“In the kitchen,” he calls out to you, releasing a resolute sigh.  Talia was going to have his head.

The two of them can hear the pad of your bare feet against the tile moments before you appear in the doorway. James feels his gut clench. You’ve pulled on the shirt he was wearing last night, the buttons closed just beneath your breasts, the sleeves rolled back to your forearms.  The bottom of the shirt brushes against the center of your thighs.  Your hair is a complete mess, an obvious reminder of how the night ended.

James licks his lips, attempting to restrain himself from bending you over the nearest surface and taking you from behind.  Not because he needs to, but because seeing you in his shirt is too good an opportunity to pass and holy hell does he  _want to_. He doesn’t even give a fuck if Talia is there to watch, but he’s pretty sure you  _would_  mind, so he remains seated as you approach hesitantly.

Your gaze lands on the gorgeous woman sitting across from James and you freeze.  She was a succubus, dangerously gorgeous and she looked mad as hell.  You hoped like hell she wasn’t his wife.   _Did demons even marry?_   “Sorry, didn’t realize someone else was here,” you mutter, your cheeks flushing. You tug at the bottom of the shirt. James is sure you don’t realize that in doing so, more of your breasts become exposed.

It’s almost too much for him to resist, but then Talia’s icy gaze turns to him and he can practically feel the pierce of it.  She switches to Russian.  “ _You brought one of them here?!”_

He sighs, avoiding the question by taking another sip of coffee.

“ _Are you out of your mind?_ ” Talia continues.

“Probably,” he comments dryly.

“You know, just because you’re speaking in a language I don’t understand, doesn’t mean I don’t realize that you’re talking about me,” your previous embarrassment quickly melts into annoyance.

Talia scoffs.  “I see why you like her.”

James extends his arm, inviting you to sit next to him.  “Talia, this is Y/N,” he introduces.  “Y/N, this is my sister, Talia.”

You raise an eyebrow, slowly making your way toward him, but you keep your gaze on the woman.  “Sister?  You don’t look related.”

James chuckles, placing his hand against your lower back as you sit on the stool beside his.  “We’re related by blood, not genetics.”

You frown.  As far as you knew, being related by blood was  _the same thing_  as being related by genetics. You figure that if he wanted you to know what he was talking about, he would have explained it that way, so you decide to drop it.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” you mutter politely.   _I think_.  You want to add.

“What are you doing here?” Talia asks with a harsh glare.

“Excuse me?” you ask, finding it difficult to keep yourself from glaring back.

“Who sent you?  Pierce?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Talia,” James cuts in before she can question you further.  “She’s not with SHIELD.”

Talia turns her glare to him. “How can you be so sure?”

He sighs.  “Because she didn’t even know what she was until last night.”

She looks at him in surprise.

“Technically, I  _still_ don’t know what I am,” you tell them both. “And what’s SHIELD?”

She analyzes your face for a moment, before turning back to James.  “Please tell me you’re joking.”

He gives her a look of warning back.

She shakes her head at him before she moves to stand up.  “Well this is clearly a disaster waiting to happen.  And I don’t plan on sticking around to watch.”  She places her hands on her narrow hips, glaring down at James in disapproval.  “You know how this is going to end, don’t you Buck?”

“It’s not the same,” he denies.

Your gaze flickers between the two of them.  Your attempts to discern what they could be talking about prove unsuccessful.

“It doesn’t have to be. It’ll still end with someone getting hurt.”  Putting an end to the conversation, Talia turns on her heels and walks out.

After hearing a door shut somewhere in the apartment, you turn your curious gaze to James.

“Before you ask,” he starts, lifting his eyes to meet yours.  “It’s not something you need to concern yourself with.”

You frown back at him.  “It actually kind of sounds like it  _is_.”

Avoiding your pointed gaze, James finishes his mug before standing to pour a new one.  “Would you like a cup?”

You can’t help but watch the way his muscles shift beneath his skin as he moves.  “Yes, thank you,” you respond, but you’re not planning on letting him get off so easily.  “She’s worried I’m going to hurt you.  Why?”

He keeps his back to you and remains silent.  He reaches into the cupboard to grab a second mug.

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “Is it because of what I am?” you try again.  “Are you ever going to tell me what that is, exactly?”

“Let’s start with this,” he finally speaks, glancing at you over his shoulder.  “What is it that  _you_  think you are?”

You huff quietly.  Why did it seem like this conversation was just going in circles?  “I don’t know.  Like a Medium or something?  Whatever these powers are… they came from my dad’s side.  He died when I was little and my mom didn’t want me knowing about any of it.  I think she was worried that I’d follow his same path and it would end up getting me killed, too.”

“She was probably right,” James returns to the island.  Setting a mug in front of you, he moves to grab coffee creamer from the refrigerator. “You never should have set foot in that club, Lumina.”  He sets the creamer down next to your cup.

“Why not?  What is the big deal?!” you ask, getting frustrated that he won’t answer any of your questions.

“You’re descended from Nephilim, Y/N,” he finally tells you.

You stare at him in shock, lips parted, eyes wide.  “Nephilim? No, that can’t…”

He raises a brow, daring you to tell him that he’s lying.  “The offspring of a fallen angel and a human.  Nephilim are very powerful creatures.  So much so, that their powers can last for generations.  It’s in your blood.”

“What?  There’s no way.”  You shake your head in denial.  “I  _don’t_ have angel blood in me.  If I did, then how do you explain last night?  We had  _sex_.  Wouldn’t you have like burst into flames or something, just from touching me?”

“It doesn’t work like that. And what we did was consensual. Trust me, if you didn’t want it, I wouldn’t have even been able to get near you.”

You frown, your mind racing. “Like with the vampire last night. When I told him to let go, he did.”

James nods.  “Your powers are strong for being so untrained.  I’d wager a guess that your Nephilim ancestry doesn’t run too far up the tree.”

“My father?” you question, though you can’t really imagine it.

James chuckles dryly, “You’re not  _that_ powerful, Lumina.  Probably your great grandfather.  I’ve never met a descendant with such recent ancestry. Though, my past run-ins with descendants weren’t exactly  _civil_.”

“Where did you meet other descendants?”

A tick develops in his jaw as he glares openly at the wall across the room.  “When I was captured by SHIELD.”

Your head tilts to the side, as you regard him carefully.  Whatever happened during his capture must not have been good.  “And what exactly  _is_  SHIELD?” you ask.

“An organization run by descendants, created to  _protect_  humans from creatures like me.  Though, in recent years they don’t do much protecting versus just capturing demons and torturing them.”

Your gaze flickers down to the mark on his shoulder.  “Is that where you got this?” you ask, putting the pieces together.  You brush your fingers over the black star.

“Branding iron dipped in holy water.”

You inhale sharply, looking at him in horror.

“And that was just day one.”

You’re almost afraid to ask. “How long were you there?”

He shrugs.  “Don’t really know.  Long enough to turn enraged.”

“Enraged?”

He sighs, shifting in his seat and looking down at the cup of coffee resting between his hands.  “When a demon doesn’t get the chance to feed… they begin to lose control.  It can happen a lot faster if you’re under stress or if you’re injured.  I think they were trying to figure out how to stave it off.  They were researching a  _cure_.  But there  _isn’t_  one.  So one day, I snapped.  It was inevitable.  I completely blacked out.  Must have killed anyone that got in my path.  Coming out of it, I had been covered in blood.”

Your heart thumps painfully in your chest.  “How did you get out of it?”  You can tell you’re not going to like his answer, but you need to know.

His eyes are haunted with the memory of what happened.  “How do you think?”  He meets your gaze, lips drawn.  “I fed. But people that sleep with an enraged incubus… they don’t survive.”

You cup a hand over your mouth, giving him a pain filled look.

Guilt clouds his features, but he continues to hold your gaze.  “I killed 3 innocent people that night.”

“James,” his name leaves your lips in a hushed whisper.  You don’t really know what to say, so you react instead.  Leaning forward, you wrap your arms around him in a comforting embrace. He stiffens beneath you, unused to such displays of affection.  But you continue to hold him, arms wrapped around his neck, cheek resting on his shoulder.

A minute passes before James begins to relax.  You feel his hand brush against the outside of your thigh, before moving up to your hip and eventually curling around your waist.  He then buries his face in your neck, inhaling your sweet scent with every breath.

“It wasn’t your fault,” you whisper into his ear.  “If you truly had no control, then there’s nothing you could have done.  SHIELD  _made_  you do that.”

Your feel the burst of air against your skin when he scoffs out a dry laugh.  “You are probably the  _only_  descendant to ever side with a demon, Lumina.”

You both begin to pull back, but you move your hand to cradle the side of his face.  You look at him tenderly, “Must be the human in me.”

The corner of his mouth tilts up in a ghost of a smile.  “Anyway…” he starts, more than happy to change the subject.  His fingers brush against your cheek when he moves to push your hair back behind your ear.  “I have not asked yet how you are feeling this morning.”

You want to close your eyes and purr like a kitten at the feel of his hands running through your hair, but you refrain.  “I feel good,” you tell him, a content smile spreading across your lips.  “Satisfied.”

His brow furrows ever so slightly.  “But you don’t feel tired at all?”

You regard him curiously. “No, why?”

“I consumed a lot more of your energy than I intended to last night.  It’s enough to keep me going for several weeks.  And because of that, you should still be in bed, recovering.”

You purse your lips in a small frown and shrug.  “I feel fine. A little hungry, maybe, but not much different from how I’d normally feel after a night of mind blowing sex.”

A self-satisfied smirk slowly makes its way onto James’ mouth.

You roll your eyes.  “Oh come on.  You’re an incubus, you should be used to hearing things like that.”

He chuckles, relieved to feel the tension between you two dissipate.  “Maybe, but it never gets old.”  He pushes off the stool and heads back to the refrigerator.  “You said you were hungry, would you like something to eat?”

Your brows lift in surprise. “You have  _actual_  food here?”

He shoots you an amused smile. “I may not need it to sustain me, but I enjoy food just as much as the next person.”  He opens the refrigerator door, analyzing what he has inside. “Eggs and toast okay?” he asks you.

“Sure,” you agree.  “But you don’t have to cook for me.”  You move to stand as well, before he stops you.

“It’s alright.  I took energy from you, it’s only fair that I give some of it back.”

“Oh, well thank you,” your cheeks flush a little and you’re not even sure why.  It’s probably just that you’re unused to receiving the pamper treatment after a night with a man you’d just met.  Males were not prone to sticking around, human or demon.

“Drink your coffee, Lumina. Before it gets cold,” James tells you as he moves the items he’ll need to the stove.  His movements are so effortless, like a silk scarf blowing in the wind.  He’s absolutely captivating.

“What does that mean?” you ask, pouring the creamer into your cup.

“What?”  He pulls a pan down from one of the cupboards and places it on the stove top.

“Lumina.”

Turning on the heat with one hand, he flicks open the lid to the egg carton with the other.  “It means light in Romanian.”

“Romanian?” you question. “Where did you learn to speak that?”

He chuckles quietly, remaining focused on his task.  “I was born in Romania.”

You look at him in surprise. “Really?  But I thought vampires were Romanian.”

That makes him out right laugh. “Vampires  _are_  Romanian.  And French, and German, and British, and American…  Underworld creatures can come from anywhere, just as humans can.”

Now your cheeks really  _are_  red, glowing with the embarrassment of your ignorance.  “Right, I guess I should have known that.”

He sends you a small smile over his shoulder.  He’s amused, not offended.  “It’s alright.  You’re still learning.”  He proceeds to break a few eggs into the pan.

“So, why do you call me that? Because I’m a descendant?”

Grabbing a spatula, he begins to stir the eggs.  “Since you haven’t been trained, you’re not very good at concealing your aura.  As soon as you stepped through the door, it was like a star had fallen from the sky; you were shinning so bright.  You’re lucky I was the only one there powerful enough to see it.  Only a completely arrogant descendant or a completely oblivious one would dare set foot into an under club with their aura on full blast.”

The heat from your coffee mug warms your hands as you look down at the brown liquid with a small frown.  “I had no idea.”

“You have to be more careful, Y/N. Demons tend to be the type to react first and ask questions later.  Especially when you’re in  _their_  territory.”

“Is that why Talia was so hostile toward me?”

James sighs softly, lowering the heat on the eggs and moving to put bread in the toaster.  “Talia has her own problems with descendants.”

“Was she captured by SHIELD too?”

He shakes his head.  “She’d been in a relationship with one.”

“What?  Is it common for demons and descendants to mix?”  Up until this point, it had seemed like you and James were a special case.  Maybe it wasn’t that big a deal after all…

He shakes his head again. “They were together back when she was human.”

“Talia is a turned succubus?”

James finally pauses in his cooking to turn to face you.  “Yes. And I’m the one that turned her.” He watches the reactions fly across your face; surprise and curiosity being the main two.  He doesn’t understand why he’s telling you all of this. He’s never opened up to anyone like this before.  But you’re so completely innocent and pure, he can’t help but respond to each of your questions.

He can tell you want to know more. “Talia was bitten by an arachnae.” You feel a shiver run up your spine. Arachnae were demonic spiders. Mean as hell and they had  _extremely_  potent venom.  “Her fiancé came to me, asking for me to save her.  The only way to reverse the effects of the venom is to find a demon with stronger blood.  Demonic energies don’t mix well.  By conducting a blood bond, my energy would have been able to fight off the venom.”

You release a small sigh, already able to tell where this story was going.  “But in doing so, Talia was turned.”

He nods.

“So, what… Her fiancé just  _left_  her?”

James shrugs a shoulder. “He couldn’t handle the thought of being with a demon, I guess.”

“But that’s just stupid!  If he was desperate enough to come to a demon for help, then he must have been in love with her.  They were engaged!”

“Things like love and the bonds of  _holy_  matrimony are not luxuries that demons are given privilege to, Lumina.”

You feel your mouth run dry. You don’t understand why those words seem to affect you so much.  You know he wasn’t just talking about Talia and her fiancé; he was trying to warn you. You’d only spent one night with the guy. But to hear him blatantly state that it was  _impossible_  for him to fall in love with you… it kind of hurt.

“So that’s just it?  She turns into a demon and he walks away,” you really don’t want to believe this to be true.

“Do you see now why she might have trust issues?” James asks you.  Turning back to his task, James butters the toast and divides the slices and eggs onto two plates.  He sets a plate down in front of you and places one for himself, grabbing a set of utensils from a drawer before taking his seat.  “Eat,” he tells you, handing you a fork.

“Thank you,” you mutter quietly, still mulling over all this new information.  It was a lot to take in.  And you couldn’t help but compare what was happening between you and James to what has already happened to Talia.  Would the two of you have the same fate if you continued whatever  _this_  was?  What could it possibly mean for the future?  Speaking of the future…  “James, can I ask you something?” you voice hesitantly.

He huffs out a small laugh. “You’ve already asked me many things. What’s stopping you now?”

You’re a little embarrassed, but you know that you  _should_  ask.  “It’s just… last night, we didn’t exactly use protection.  How likely is it that something might happen…?”

James lifts his gaze to meet yours.  He expects to see something akin to disgust lining your features at the thought of spawning with a demon.  However, all he can find is slight concern.  You simply weren’t ready to bring a child into this world.  It didn’t matter to you that if by chance something  _did_  happen, the father of your child wouldn’t be human.  The thought that there  _could_  be a future where you were carrying his child, struck him hard. Quite literally.  The longer he thought about how your stomach would grow with his baby inside you, the more  _something else_  began to grow, eager to make it happen.

His shifts a little in his seat, nostrils flaring as he tries to resist the urges building inside him. You’ve asked him an honest question, but it’s difficult to respond with the answer when his mind is clouded with lust. Especially when the answer isn’t the one he now wishes it to be.  “It’s unlikely,” he grunts out after gaining some semblance of control.  “Incubi have the ability to choose whether or not their seed implants.”

You raise both of your brows, “Huh.  That’s nifty… if a little weird.”  You seem completely oblivious to his less than decent reactions.  “So how often do you normally have to feed?  You know, when you’re not fucking the brains out of a descendant.”

James chuckles and shakes his head at you, hanging onto your words as a distraction from his body.  “You have absolutely no control over that curious human nature of yours, do you?”

You grin cheekily, “It’s a gift.”

James doesn’t think he’s ever been so amused by someone in his entire life.  “Feeding once every few days keeps me healthy.  The longest I’ve ever willingly gone was 2 weeks, but I’d had multiple partners the night before my fast.”

“Jesus, that’s a lot of sex,” you comment.  A  _two week_  dry spell?  Like are you fucking kidding me?  “Does it ever get boring?”  You can’t really imagine getting tired of sex, but when you have it  _that_  often…

James laughs.  “Do  _you_  ever get bored of food?”

You shrug a shoulder, “No, I guess not.”

“It helps having different partners.  Each person is slightly different.  It’s like having a different meal for dinner every night,” he explains.

“So, you never sleep with the same person twice?” you ask.  That also doesn’t sit well with you.

He shakes his head, “Not usually. It can be dangerous to sleep with a human multiple times.”

“Dangerous how?”

James reaches a hand up, running it through his hair.  The movement is casual and not meant to incite anything, but god does it make you salivate.  “As I’m sure you can understand, sex with an incubus is highly addictive.  And like most addictive things, too much exposure will slowly kill you.  If an incubus draws energy from a human before they’ve had time to recuperate from the last transference, the incubus will slowly drain them out, like a battery. It can be done correctly if you’re extremely careful, but for most incubi, it’s not worth the trouble.”

“I see,” you respond before turning back to your food.  You only manage to take a few more bites before you’re speaking again.  “I have another question.”

“Yes?” he inquires with another chuckle.

“When Talia was here, she called you Buck.  Can I ask why?”

“It’s from Buchanan.  My middle name.”

You hum in understanding. “James Buchanan…”

“Barnes,” he finishes for you.

You ponder over his name for a few seconds.  It sounded so  _normal_.  “Does anyone ever call you Bucky?”

He snorts, grabbing for his coffee mug.  “Not if they want to keep their hearts in their chests.”

You try to suppress a laugh, realizing that it’s an idle threat.  You turn once more to your breakfast.  After your plate has been cleared of food, James stands once again, taking both of your plates to the sink.  He rinses them off before depositing them in the dishwasher.  He does the same with your coffee mugs.

“Hey, Bucky?” you call out to him.

He looks at you from over his shoulder, one brow raised.  He tries to look unamused by your use of the name, but the slight curl of his lips gives him away.

You smile innocently at him. “Can I use your shower?”

His eyes shine with humor, unable to fight off his smile any longer.  Reaching for the kitchen towel, he quickly dries off his hands before he moves for the doorway.  “Come on.”

You follow him back to his bedroom.  It’s difficult to not think about all the things you’ve discussed this morning. Especially with how low his pants are slung on his hips.  You’d give just about anything to break his ‘never sleep with the same person twice’ statute.  Your hands are back to fiddling with the bottom edge of his shirt.  You don’t really know how you picked up the habit, but you seem to do it a lot around him.  “Bucky, do you think my angel blood is what allowed me to recover so quickly from last night?” you question as the two of you step through the threshold of his bedroom.

He glances back at you, pushing open the door to his bathroom and holding it open for you to enter first. “That would be my best guess. I’ve never heard of a demon and a descendant engaging in such a manner.  So, I couldn’t really say for sure.”

The marble tiling sends chills up your legs as your bare feet pad across them.  You make it to the sink, stopping at the marble counter top and you watch Bucky through the mirror.  “But hypothetically speaking… if that  _were_  the case.  Would that mean that there’d be no risk of draining the descendant?”

Bucky’s eyes take on a dangerous glint.  “Hypothetically, yes.”  You watch his gaze sweep over your reflection, lingering on the open V of the dress shirt.  “It  _could_  mean that an incubus and a descendant are able to engage in limitless sex.”

Your body seems to come to life under the intensity of his gaze.  You know you shouldn’t want it.  Shouldn’t want  _this_.  But the offer was oh so tempting.

Bucky takes a predatory step toward you.  “Is your curiosity piqued, Lumina?”  He continues to move until his chest is pressed to your back and you’re pinned between him and the sink.  His head tilts down, lips brushing over the shell of your ear.  “Because I’m  _very_  much interested in testing those limits.”

They say that everyone, at least once in their life, is given a chance to make a deal with the devil. It’s a judge of your character to test whether or not you take it.  It’s a reflection upon everything you’ve done to get to this point.

Once again you find yourself questioning the validity of having angel blood inside you.  Because at this very moment, you couldn’t give a single fuck at the thought that you were probably going to burn in hell for this. But your decision was already made before the offer was even brought to your attention.

You wanted this.  Bad.

You turn around to face him, your hands griping the edge of the counter top as you meet his cerulean gaze. “You already know how difficult it is for me to deny my curious nature,” you tell him.

His gaze burns into yours, igniting a delicious heat deep in your belly.  He grips your hips, giving you a second of warning before he lifts you onto the counter top.  Thrusting his hips forward, you can feel his prominent erection straining against the thin cotton of his pants.  “Make sure you know what door you are opening, Lumina,” his voice has taken on the husky undertone that gets you wet in seconds.  “Sex.  When I want. Where I want.  As often as I want.  No restrictions.  Whether I’m hungry or not.  Whether I  _need_  it, or simply just  _want_ it.”  He thrusts again, grinding his length against your glistening folds.  His pupils expand, feeling your slick soaking through the fabric.  “You will be  _mine_.”

Your breath escapes you in shaky gasps.  It feels like your entire body is pulsing.  “You have my permission.”  The words have barely had a chance to fill the air before he’s devouring you.

Mouth slanted over yours, bodies molding into one, he pulls the breath straight out of your lungs with a single kiss.  You moan against him, one hand gripping his bicep, the other curling around the back of his neck.  You hook your legs around his narrow hips, locking him in place, though you’re pretty sure he doesn’t have plans to go anywhere else.

“You have any idea what seeing you in my clothes does to me?” Bucky’s breath tickles your lips when he speaks.  You don’t really get much of a chance to respond, his mouth continuing to do delectable things to yours.  “Soon as you stepped in the kitchen, all I could think about was bending you over every god damn surface.”

“Bucky…” you barely manage to release the soft whimper before your mouths are melding once more.

You hear the rip of fabric, once again, before a rush of cold air hits your skin.  You pull out of the kiss in surprise, listening to the clatter of buttons falling onto the tile.  You glance down at your newly exposed skin, your breasts heaving with every breath, before meeting Bucky’s hungry gaze once more.

“You know, you’re going to have to buy a whole new wardrobe if you insist on doing that every time,” you tell him with a raised brow.

He smirks devilishly down at you. “It’ll be worth every penny.”

He pushes the shirt off your shoulders and down your arms, allowing it to fall loosely onto the counter top.  His eyes rake over your figure, memorizing every single inch.  You can’t help but shiver.  The way he looks it you, it makes you feel like your body isn’t the only thing that’s naked.  It’s like he can see into your very soul.

His hands move up your hips, feeling the warmth of your skin between his palms.  They tickle your sides with their feather like touch, before they stop at the edge of your rib cage.

“Didn’t get to play with these last night,” he comments moments before he’s taking one breast in each hand. His thumbs circle around your erect nipples, teasing them until they’re absolutely aching for his touch.

“Oh God,” you cry out, eyes falling shut and head tilting back.

You hear his dark chuckle resonate through the room.  “Not quite, Lumina.”  He pinches your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, the pleasurable pain shooting straight to your core.  “You think God can give you this much pleasure from such a sinful act?”

“Bucky.  O-Oh!”  Your back arches of its own accord, pushing your breasts even further into his palms.

He bends down, taking one of the stiff peaks into his mouth.  The heat from his tongue burns your skin like a paintbrush dipped in fire.  All you can do is whimper and moan beneath his assault.

“Bucky,  _please_ ,” you beg, hips desperately rocking forward.

“Please what?” he asks, switching to your other breast.

Your lips part in a gasping breath.  “Please,” you repeat, unable to come up with anything else.  You can’t think straight.

“Use your words, Lumina,” Bucky’s gaze lifts back to yours, a smug grin spreading across his lips when he sees how undone you’ve become.  “Just tell me what you need.”  He mercifully ends his assault on your aching breasts, allowing your mind to clear.

“I need…” your chest heaves, the part of your brain that can actually form coherent sentences seems to have deserted you.  “I…  I need you.  James, please.  I need you inside me.”

“James?  What happened to Bucky?” he asks with a raised brow.

You release a whimpering huff of frustration, eyes narrowing in a glare.  “Bucky, I swear to- Ah!”  You cry out when one of Bucky’s slender fingers delves deep into your core.

Your walls clamp eagerly around him, desperately trying to pull him in further.  Bucky watches your face, how your teeth sink into your lower lip, your eyes filled with uninhibited desire.

“This what you wanted?” he asks in a low growl.  His finger curls into you, pressing that one spot that makes your mind hazy.

A needy whine slips passed your lips and you’re not even going to try to stop it.  “More,” you plead.

“More?”  Bucky lightens the pressure of his finger before he pulls back. The very tip of his finger is about to slip from within you, when he suddenly surges forth, a second finger now joining the first.  He presses each finger against you in alternating patterns, drawing out even more sounds you didn’t even know you could make.  “And how is that?”

You relish in the sensations his fingers can provide you with.  But after a moment passes, it’s still not enough.  “More,” you repeat, even more desperate.

Bucky grins down at you wickedly. “My little Lumina is  _so greedy_.”  He adds a third finger.  You’re so slick, it’s not that difficult.  “You gonna come all over my fingers?” he asks you, applying even more pressure to your walls.

“B-ucky!” your breaths come in quick succession, the muscles deep in your belly beginning to coil.

His thumb swipes up against your clit and you’re done for.  You cry out loudly, hips nearly jerking off the counter top.  His hand follows your movement, fingers continuing to drive your pleasure in full force.  He hums in approval, a dark smirk curling onto his lips.  Your high has just begun to slow when he pulls his hand back.

You’re desperately trying to catch your breath as Bucky pushes his pants down his legs.  Like last night, he uses his slick covered fingers to stroke at his length.  Watching the way he handles himself, with such sure strokes, it makes your skin hot. He circles his palm over the tip, mixing your slick with the dribble of precum that’s begun to leak out.

The sight of him is too much to resist and you find yourself reaching out.  Bucky stills the movements of his hand, noticing your approach. Your fingers soon replace his, closing around his thickness and gliding over his length.  He sucks in a breath through his teeth, his jaw clenching. “Easy there, Lumina.  I’m more sensitive than a human male,” he tells you with a huff.

You lighten up some of the pressure of your grip.  Like any other time your skins have touched, his heat soaks into your palm.  He’s as hard as granite, beneath smooth plains of skin. Your thumb circles over his sensitive tip, eliciting a shiver and small groan that vibrates his entire form.  His sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, rocking his hips ever so slightly against your touch.

“Guide me in, Lumina,” he advises. If you continue to hold him with such gentle caresses, he’s going to lose all his sanity.

With your fingers holding him by the base, he brings his hips to yours.  You push his tip into your folds, gliding him against the slick path up to nudge your clit.  The two of you groan in unison.  Sliding him back down, you draw his tip to your entrance and he begins pushing in. Once again, your body opens up to him eagerly, like a flower opening for the sun.  There’s no resistance, no pain, only pleasure.  His pushes in to the hilt, griping your hips and pulling you to the very edge of the counter.

“You feel more incredible around me than anything I’ve ever experienced,” Bucky groans.  He can feel your energy, just as powerful as it had been last night.  But for the first time in his entire existence, he doesn’t feel the need to draw from it.  He’s sated from the energy transference yesterday, he has no need for more.

Drawing his hips back, he pauses for a small beat before sinking into you again.  The pleasure that courses through him is slightly different.  He doesn’t have to focus on feeding. Doesn’t have to worry about drawing too much energy.  He can enjoy the moment.  Enjoy the sex.  Enjoy the feeling of your body welcoming his with every thrust.

“Bucky,” his name falls from your lips in a sweet sigh.  Your hands lift up to frame his cheeks, bringing his lips to yours.

This is the second time he’s allowed you to pull him in for a kiss while he’s buried deep inside you.  Yet another thing he doesn’t typically indulge in that seems to come so naturally when he’s with you.  Kissing during sex was not common among incubi.  Such an act was typically experienced to provide an emotional connection to your partner.  And emotions were completely irrelevant when it came to feeding.  Kissing before the act, sure.  It often helped to soften up his partners.  Kissing during foreplay… maybe, if the moment called for it.  But a kiss shared while your bodies were so intimately intertwined… that was a definite no.

A small part of him realizes that he’s wading into dangerous waters.  Demons and emotions were typically a bad combination.  But instead of pulling back like he should, he finds himself leaning further into the kiss.  His tilts his head, hands splayed over your back to hold you impossibly closer. His hips rock with yours to the gentle rhythm of pleasure and longing.

Gradually he begins to pick up the pace.  The hastened friction of your bodies ignites a fire between the two of you.  He pulls out of the kiss to give you a chance to breathe.  Your panting breaths caress his cheeks with every exhale.  He finds that he thoroughly enjoys watching your face. How relaxed you become, eyes glazed with passion.  Your lips plump and red from his kisses, cheeks flushed, pupils blown.  You’re like a work of art.

He watches a moan work its way passed your lips when he manages to hit you in just the right spot.  His lips curl into a wicked grin and he drives into you with even more force, taking you again and again until you’re completely helpless in his arms.

He can sense your impending climax.  Feels it in his very bones.  It hits you like an explosion, rocking your entire world.  Your cries of ecstasy bounce off the walls of the bathroom.  Bucky can feel every single twitch and flutter of your walls as they tighten around him.  His blood turns absolutely molten in his veins, spreading heat throughout every single inch of his body.  His breaths escape his lungs in hurried puffs as he chases after his own release.

He feels the tightening in his balls, a telltale sign of what’s to come.  He drives into you with a bruising pace.  Leaning forward, his hand slaps onto the mirror at your back, hoping to gain some leverage.  His gaze flickers to the image that’s reflecting back.  He’s never really taken into account what it is his partners were seeing when they looked up at him.  His pupils are dilated to the point where only a thin ring of blue can be detected if the light hits just right.  His lips, like yours are plump and a few shades darker than normal.  His hair falls haphazardly around his ears, a few strands swinging against his forehead with every thrust.

But there’s something that seems to be different about his reflection.  Something that he’s sure wasn’t normally there with his past partners.  A sort of softness in his features.  Dare he even say tenderness?  His gaze flickers back to yours and fuck does he know he’s in trouble.  Because you haven’t even been in his life for a full 24 hours and he’s already become attached.  And it’s not just on a physical level.  If that were the case, he wouldn’t have divulged so much personal information about himself to you.  No, he was starting to  _care_  for you.  And prospects that seemed to  _terrify_  him a mere day ago, didn’t seem so bad any more. Commitment, emotions,  _relationships_  were not words that ever seemed to cross his mind.  Until you walked into that club and your light filled his entire being in a warm glow.

With these thoughts filling his head, James feels his climax hit him in full force.  It washes him in that familiar heat, like basking beneath the sun. Pleasure licks up his spine, spreading through every nerve ending, from his fingers to his toes.  A grunt of relief escapes him, his eyes falling shut as he lets the carnality of his release overwhelm him.  He feels your arms tighten around his torso, your chests pressed so close, he can feel your racing heartbeat.  You bury your face into his neck and he rests his cheek against the top of your head.

Your bodies shudder in unison, panting breaths drifting over flushed skin.  You remain locked together, even as the pleasure begins to recede. Neither of you seem particularly inclined to pull back.  The smudge of Bucky’s hand remains on the mirror when he moves his hand to cradle your cheek.  Lifting your face up, he tilts his down to connect your lips one last time.

Kissing after sex is most  _definitely_  a new sensation for him.

You kiss back slowly, a blissful haze clouding your response to him.  When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes.

“So, I think we’d both benefit from that shower.  Mind if I join you?” he asks, his voice husky and low.

A small smile lifts your lips. “I thought that was already implied.”

James feels a jolt in his chest, and it just solidifies even further how much trouble he’s in. Because for the first time in his  _entire_ existence, his heart skips a beat.


	3. Chapter 3

“ _Bucky!_ ”  Your hips jerk off the couch cushions, despite Bucky’s hand trying to keep you pinned.

His mouth does a better job at following your movements, his tongue working over your clit in steady strokes.

The two of you had gotten about 20 minutes in to some On Demand movie before you’d, once again, become entangled with each other.  You don’t even know at this point how many times you’ve gone at it.  After a pretty heavy make-out session, Bucky had you on your back.  And in seconds, he was between your legs.

After your shower, you’d thrown on one of his other shirts.  It was almost the only thing in his entire wardrobe that possessed color.  A red Henley.  You’re wearing it now, but it’s pushed up to your waist.

Bucky Barnes is a master at oral sex, though you shouldn’t be surprised.  Honestly, if it didn’t feel so fucking good, it might be a little annoying at how easily this all came to him.  He only needed a few short seconds of exploration before he already knew all the ins and outs of your body.  Where you liked to be licked, where you liked to be sucked, where you appreciated the occasional nibble of teeth.  Things that would have taken any normal man  _months_  to figure out, and Bucky just knew it on instinct.  It really wasn’t fair.

He has you reaching your peak faster than your vibrator at home ever could have.  And you almost hate to admit, but the orgasm is nearly twice as intense.

Your back arches, hands fisting into his hair.  You’ve got one leg thrown over his shoulder and you’re pretty sure your heel is digging rather uncomfortably into his back, but he doesn’t seem to mind.  His tongue happily laps at everything you have to offer him, your taste permanently ingrained into his mind.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” you tell him through labored breaths.

His eyes flicker up to meet yours. They shine with mischief, his tongue leaving one last flick over your clit before he pulls back.  His lips quirk into a smile, his whole chin glistening with your slick.  “What am I trying to do?” he asks, feigning innocence.

“Make me stay another night.”  You carefully detangle your fingers from his hair, your muscles going lax as you fall back onto the couch cushions.

His innocent smile melts into a dark smirk.  “Now there’s a thought.”  He wipes at his mouth with the back of his hands before he starts to crawl back up your body.

“James, no,” You try to be stern with him, but it’s not exactly effective with an orgasm still fresh in your system.  “You have to take me home.”

You feel the cushion dip just above your shoulders, where he places his hands, his body settling over you. “Why?”

His sensual gaze hypnotizes you for a moment, almost distracting you from your thoughts.  “Because tomorrow’s Monday and I have to work,” you remember.

Bucky lowers his head, starting a trail of kisses across your jaw.  “Call in sick.”  He finds that sensitive spot beneath your ear, and he nibbles at it gently.

“I can’t.”  Your hands grip his shoulders and it’s a bit of a struggle, but you’re eventually able to get your body to cooperate and you push him back. “What about you?  Do you even have a job?”

He pouts, mildly irritated that you’re foiling his plans.  “Yes, I have a job.  I’m an architect.”

“An architect?” you repeat.

“Yeah.  I make buildings.”

You laugh, “I know what an architect is.  I just wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

He raises a brow.  “Oh, and what  _were_ you expecting?”

Beginning to recover from your orgasm, you grin cheekily, “I don’t know.  Male escort?”

He huffs and rolls his eyes, pushing back and sitting up.

You laugh again, sitting up as well.  “I’m kidding!”

He moves to the end of the couch, sulking.

You follow after him, settling onto his lap, so he can’t escape you.  “I’m sorry,” you tell him, though the sincerity is lost through your giggles.

“I’m a damn good architect,” he states firmly.

Your laughter soon settles and you gaze at him softly, “I don’t doubt that.  You make any buildings I might know?”

“This one, for starters,” he tells you.

Your brows shoot up in shock. “ _This_  one?” you question, pointing your hand downward to the floor.

“Is that really so surprising?” he doesn’t like how your reaction feels a little emasculating.  Like you couldn’t believe he could be capable of such feats.  He’d just finished giving you an orgasm using  _only_  his mouth, for Christ sake.

You shake your head quickly. “No, not surprising.  It’s impressive.”  You look around the room through new eyes.  “You built this  _whole_  place?”

“ _Designed_ ,” he corrects.  “There’s a difference.”

“Right,” you catch his gaze once more.  “That’s pretty amazing,” you smile.

Your earlier teasing had knocked his ego down a few pegs, but he could feel it slowly returning now with your praise.  “I also designed the club.”

“Oh yeah?”

He nods, “Yeah.  Under clubs are the type of buildings I work on most often.”

“How do you get them built so fast?” you ask, remembering how that one from the other night seemed to just appear out of nowhere.

Bucky chuckles quietly.  “We don’t.  We have mages that set up glamour spells to conceal the construction work.  Everything looks exactly the same until the building is ready to be revealed.”

“So you use magic,” you verify. “I guess that also explains why no one seemed to be concerned that the building just randomly popped up.”

Bucky nods, “Though that particular spell does not seem to have affected you.”

“More descendant stuff?” you gather.

“Yeah.”

You hum thoughtfully.  You feel Bucky’s hands move to your hips, slowly sinking beneath the shirt you wear.  You shoot him a knowingly look, clamping your hands around his wrists to stop his advancement.  “Well, if you’re really such a big shot architect, then that probably means you’ve got a lot of work to get done.  So, I guess you’re taking me home.”

He meets your challenging gaze for a moment before eventually yielding.  “Fine.  I’ll take you tonight.”

You grin victoriously, leaning forward to place a chaste kiss against his cheek.  “Thank you.”  Pulling his hands away from you, your shift off his lap before standing.  You tug the bottom of his Henley down your thighs. James has to resist the urge to completely pull it off you.  “You mind if I borrow this?” you ask, glancing down at the material and missing his heated gaze.  “And maybe a pair of shorts, since you kind of destroyed the only thing I had to wear…”

James lounges back against the couch cushions, his gaze sweeping over you.  “You’re a bossy little thing, aren’t you?”

You smirk, unashamed. “Yes.”  You step back and head for his room.

After your shower, Bucky had given you free range to search through his drawers to find the shirt you are currently wearing, so you didn’t feel too bad for rifling for some shorts. It’s a little difficult to navigate through the sea of black fabrics, trying to tell the difference between long pants and shorts.  You’d already jokingly told James that you were going to take him shopping to get more color in his life.  You eventually find a pair of basketball shorts with a drawstring that you’re sure will stay on long enough to get home.

“You want these back?” Bucky asks from the doorway, your bra and panties dangling from his fingers.  He’d thrown them in the wash for you earlier in the day.

“Thanks,” plucking them from his grasp, you slip them on underneath his shirt, knowing that if the shirt were to come off, you’d be on his bed in seconds.  You slip the shorts on next, tying the strings to keep them on your hips.

James moves to his closet, pulling a navy cotton jacket off its hanger and slipping it onto his bare torso.  He only zips it about halfway, so it’s painfully clear that he’s not wearing anything underneath.

You grab the tattered remains of your roommate’s dress, already trying to figure out how you’re going to explain it to her when you see her later.  Moving out of the room, you grab your heels from where they’ve been left on the floor since your arrival, while James gets his keys.

Feeling a little awkward over wearing heels with men’s clothes, you opt for going barefoot, following James to the elevator.  Getting down to the car, you realize you’d left your clutch purse on the seat the whole time you’d been here.  It would certainly make getting into your apartment easier.  You hold the purse in your lap to ensure you don’t forget it again.

James follows your directions to the other end of town, eventually coming to a stop in front of a modest looking apartment complex.  You look up at the building, tugging at your bottom lip with your teeth as you try to figure out how to go about saying goodbye.  Do you just leave?  Say,  _thanks for the awesome sex, we should do it again sometime_.  And on another note, James was the only person you know that actually had a clue as to what you were.  You didn’t really want to just let that opportunity go.

“I hope you realize that this isn’t over, yet,” James’ voice pulls you from your thoughts.

You turn to look at him, one brow raised.

“We’re not done testing those limits.”

“Okay,” you respond casually, trying not to sound as eager as you actually are.

James leans forward, capturing your mouth in one last searing kiss.  His hand frames the side of your face, holding you close as your mouths melt into one.  He kisses you deep and slow and you have half a mind to tell him to take you back to his apartment.  Before you’re able to convince yourself to crawl into his lap, he pulls back.

He gives you a determined look. “I’ll keep in touch.”

All you can do is nod mutely, his kiss having turned your brain to mush.  You push open the door, grabbing your purse from your lap with one hand and holding your shoes and the dress with the other.  Stepping out, you close the door with your hip.  James continues to watch you until you’ve entered the building.

You’re in a clouded daze the whole walk to the elevator and down the hall to your apartment.  The events of the weekend play back in your mind like a film.  A sexy, hot as fuck, basically porno film….  You can’t believe that even half of it happened.  If it weren’t for the physical evidence of his clothes and the satisfied aches of your body, you might have thought you’d made it all up.

You’re rather drastically pulled back into the present when a couch pillow slams into your face immediately upon entrance to your apartment.  “Where the hell have you been?!”

You wince at your roommate’s angry face.

“You couldn’t have answered your phone?  Not even a text, telling me you were okay?”

“Sorry, Wanda.  It died and I was a little distracted…”  You close the door behind you, stepping into the open floor plan of the front entrance/living room.  You figured a little white lie about your phone wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“Yes, I can see that,” she gives you a once over, noting the obviously male wardrobe.  “What happened to my dress?”

You grimace, “Uh… I’ll buy you a new one?”  You show her what’s become of the material she entrusted with you.

“What in the…  Were you having sex with Edward Scissor Hands?!” She stalks toward you, pulling the dress from your hands and analyzing the rip.

“No!  He was just… very eager…” your attempts at defending James’ actions are futile.

“Eager, huh?”  She gives you a doubtful look.  “Well, I hope it was worth it, because you are most definitely buying me a new one.”

You give her a small laugh. “Yeah, I’d definitely say it was worth it.”

Walking passed her, you move to your bedroom door.  You leave it open, tossing your heels to the floor and setting your purse on your nightstand.

“How worth it?” Wanda questions curiously.  She leans against your doorway, her eyes narrowing slightly as she observes you.

“Like best sex of my entire life worth it.”  Because you’ve got your back to her as you move to pull your phone out of your purse, you don’t notice how your words slightly put her on edge.  After getting your phone into your hands, you reach for your charging cord and plug it in.  “I’m talking about multiple orgasms, sex all day long.  I swear, he’s like a fucking machine.  Pun completely intended.”

Wanda’s shoulders relax a little. “So you guys had sex multiple times,” she verifies.

“Oh yeah.  Like more sex this past weekend than I’ve had in the past  _year_ ,” you send her a smirk over your shoulder.

She raises a brow, trying to suppress her amused smile.  “Does Mr. Sex-a-lot have a name?”

You can’t help but laugh at her nickname.  It’s quite fitting.  “Bucky,” you tell her.

“Bucky?”

You jump onto your bed, sitting back against your headboard, holding a pillow in your lap.  “Yup.”

“So… Bucky likes to fucky?” she asks with a teasing grin.

“Wanda!”  Taking the pillow in your lap, you throw it at her.  This seems to be a common occurrence tonight.

She laughs, catching it with ease. “What?”

You groan loudly, covering your face in embarrassment.  “Yes.  Bucky indeed, very much so, likes to fucky.”

Her giggles continue for a minute, despite the glare you send her way.  They eventually die down and she releases a sigh.  “So, are you seeing him again?”

“God, I hope so.  He said he’d be in touch.  Whatever that means.  I almost feel like that’s worse than saying  _I’ll call you_.”

Wanda shrugs, “Maybe he’s planning to stop by for a booty call.  He is the one that dropped you off, right?”

“Yeah.  Maybe.”

“Well, if he does come… try to keep it down, alright?  I enjoy my sleep,” she smirks, pushing off the doorway.  She casually tosses your pillow back to you.

You laugh, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Wanda closes your bedroom door as she leaves, and you can hear her soft footfalls as she goes to her own room.

*

The work week goes by painfully slowly.  Especially when, as each day passes, there’s no word from Bucky.  Though you don’t really know what to expect.  It’s not like you gave him your phone number or any other way to contact you.

You’ve been sleeping in his Henley every night.  It’s the only reminder you really have that everything that happened last weekend  _actually_  happened.

You’re so grateful when Friday finally hits.  As you ride the elevator up to your floor, you’re considering drawing yourself a bath. You unlock your door, stepping through and setting your keys in the bowl sitting upon the small entrance table. You shrug out of your coat and hang it up on its peg on the wall.  You make your way to your room.  Tossing your purse onto the bed, you move to your closet.  You slip out of your work flats and slide open the closet door, with the intention of putting them away.

“An enchantress lives in your apartment building.”

“Jesus Christ!” you startle, turning around quickly.

There’s a cushioned chair in the corner of your room that you sometimes use for reading.  James is sitting there casually, his cerulean gaze locked on your form.

“I… what?” you ask, placing a hand to your racing heart.

He pushes out of the chair, “An enchantress.  She put up spells and wards in an effort to keep my kind out of here.  I almost couldn’t get in.”

It takes a moment for your brain to reconnect.  “Then, how did you?”

He smirks widely.  “I have my ways.”

You raise a brow, your head tilting back slightly to keep holding his gaze once he’s standing right in front of you.  “But the door was locked.”

He chuckles, his hands reaching out to grip your hips.  “I can get passed enchantress spells and you really think a locked door will keep me out?”

“Okay then…”  Your gaze flickers down his chest, noting that he’s in another dress shirt and jacket.  “So what are you doing here?”

“You’re joining me for dinner.”

“Am I?”

He smirks.  “Yeah.”

“What if I have plans already?” you question, though you’re not sure why.  Playing hard to get, maybe?

“Do you?”

“No.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

You narrow your gaze at him, tilting your head slightly.  “Don’t you think it’s polite to actually ask someone to join you, instead of just assuming?”

“What’s the difference?  I already know you’re going to say yes.”

You give him an unimpressed look.

He sighs and rolls his eyes. “Fine.  Y/N, will you join me for dinner tonight, followed by a weekend of fucking you against every piece of furniture I own at my apartment?”

You can’t help but snort at the crassness of his words.  “Why yes, James.  Thank you for offering,” you respond formally with a teasing smile.  Pulling out of his hold, you move back to your closet.  “How much time do I have to get ready?”

“An hour.  And here.”  Turning back around, you find him holding a black garment bag.

“What’s this?” you ask. Slowly taking it from him.

“The dress I owe you.”

Hanging the garment bag up, you carefully unzip it to reveal the dress inside.  It’s absolutely gorgeous.  And completely out of your price range.  “Jesus, Bucky.  I could pay my rent with this thing!”

“Do you not like it?” he questions with a frown.

“No, it’s beautiful, I just… It’s too much.”  Though as you’re saying that, you find yourself reaching out to touch the silky material.

“Put it on,” Bucky whispers directly into your ear.  “You deserve nice things.”

With Bucky’s silver tongued voice filling your head, it’s difficult to listen to the rational part of your brain.  You find yourself shrugging out of your work clothes and before you know it, the dress is gliding over your skin.  It’s a perfect fit, properly hugging your curves and accentuating your assets.  You haven’t worn something that made you look this good in a long time.  Moving to your full-length mirror, you run your hands over the dress and admire your reflection.

Bucky’s image soon joins yours, his heated gaze washing over your figure.

“You are  _not_  allowed to rip this dress,” you scold him, crossing your arms over your stomach to hold it defensively.

He smirks, releasing a low chuckle.  “I’m afraid that’s going to be easier said than done, Lumina.”

With your outfit already picked, you’ve got plenty of time to do your makeup and hair, though you would have wished to have enough time for a shower first.  Oh well, Bucky had a nicer shower anyway.  Once you’re done, there’s just enough time to pack a quick overnight bag, so at least you’ll have something to wear on the way back home in case he  _does_ rip apart the dress.

Bucky carries your bag as you follow him out to the car.  You send a quick text to Wanda, so at least she won’t have to worry this time.

_Bucky’s picking me up for dinner.  Will probably be at his place all weekend._

You see the three dots pop up as she types her reply.

_Okay.  Be safe ;)_

Bucky holds the door open for you. He waits until you’ve settled into the seat before he shuts the door and moves to place your bag in the trunk.

“Where are we going?” you ask as he slides into the driver seat.

He chuckles lowly. “Patience is a virtue.”

“Not one that I possess.”

He glances briefly at you, eyes shining in amusement.  “We’re going to dinner.”  Leaving it at that, he starts the car and takes off.

You pull into the parking lot of a restaurant you’ve never been to.  Namely because one dinner here cost about half of your paycheck.  You gape at the building before looking at Bucky incredulously.  “You do realize that you don’t have to impress me, right?  I would have been fine with a burger and fries at some diner.”

Bucky smirks at you. “You’re not exactly dressed for a diner, now are you?”

You glance down at your dress while Bucky steps out of the car.  Your door opens and like last weekend, he holds his hand out for you to take. There’s considerably less hesitation this time.  He pulls you to your feet with little effort, his hand releasing yours to wrap around your waist.

You walk together to the front entrance.  There’s a large amount of people standing around the front and just within the entrance, you wonder how long the wait will be.  Bucky guides you passed all of them, straight to the maître d.  “James Barnes,” Bucky announces to the man.

The man smiles graciously. “Certainly, Mr. Barnes.  Right this way.”  The man grabs two menus and enters the dining room of the restaurant.

You look up at Bucky in surprise, before glancing back at the envious faces of everyone else that still has to wait.  “Do you come here often?” you question.

“I know the chef,” he explains.

The two of you are taken to a secluded corner, where you’ll be able to dine in relative privacy despite the crowded restaurant.  You’ve barely settled into your seat when a waiter approaches.  “The bottle you requested, Mr. Barnes,” the man offers a bottle of wine.

“Thank you,” Bucky nods to him, but he keeps his gaze on you.

You’re looking around the whole room in interest.  You’ve never been in a restaurant this fancy before and you don’t know if you ever will again.  You don’t want to miss anything.

“Would you care for a glass, ma’am?” the waiter asks, catching your attention.

“Hmm?  Oh, yes please,” you give him a sweet smile.  He pours your glass and you mutter your thanks before he leaves.  You finally turn to the menu.  The three figure prices for one dish nearly gives you a heart attack.  “Holy shit!” you whisper incredulously.

“If you’re worrying about the prices, don’t.”

“But…”  You sigh quietly, knowing that there’s no arguing with him. You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to figure out the cheapest thing on the menu and hope he won’t notice.

“James,” you look up as a new man approaches.  Judging by the white button up coat, this must be the chef.  You can sense some type of power coming from him, though you can’t entirely place what it is.  

“Vis,” Bucky greets the man, holding his hand out and the two of them shake.  “It’s good to see you, again.”  Bucky then gestures toward you, “This is my date, Y/N.”

The man gives you a polite smile. “Victor Shade,” he introduces. “Though this one insists on calling me Vision.”

You give Bucky a curious look. “Vision is a seer,” he explains to you.

“Oh,” you look up at Victor with surprise and interest.  “Well, it’s nice to meet you,” you smile warmly, holding your hand out as well.

He takes it in a gentle grasp before he tenses up.  You feel a jolt pass between your hands as his eyes start to glow a purple-red.  As fast as it started, Victor soon releases you, stumbling back a step.  “Forgive me,” he apologizes, blinking several times until his eyes go back to their normal hue.  “I normally try to keep my powers at bay upon meeting new people.  But your body gives energy so freely, I was taken off guard.”

Bucky frowns at him.  “Did you see something?”

Victor hesitates a moment, glancing between the both of you.  “I- yes. But James, you know I can’t say.”

You feel your stomach drop when you realize that he just had a vision about your future.  And judging by his reaction, it wasn’t good.  “Is everything alright?” you question tentatively.

Victor meets your gaze, he looks at you with sympathy.  “You will face many trials, I’m afraid.”

“Trials?” you repeat, not understanding his meaning.

“Draw strength from those closest to you.  I’m sorry, but that’s all I can tell you.”  He glances back to Bucky.  “Dinner is on the house tonight, James.”  With a parting nod he turns and heads back to the kitchen, looking a little shaken.

You give Bucky a distressed look. “Trials?  What the hell does that mean?”

“I don’t know…”  Sensing your rising panic, Bucky reaches his hand out to hold yours.  The heat between your palms provides a slight calming effect for you.  “If you want, we can leave.”

You shake your head.  You’d be damned if you were going to let this ruin your date tonight.  Trials could mean anything.  Maybe you were going to end up in court?  Hopefully it wouldn’t be for murder, though…  “No, we can stay.  I just… I need a sec,” you release a shaky breath, trying to gather your thoughts.

“Hey,” Bucky voices soothingly.  He stands from his seat and crouches down next to you.  His hand reaches up to cup your cheek, turning your head gently to meet his gaze.  “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

He guides your mouth to his, kissing you slowly and with enough intensity to distract your mind.  It doesn’t take much before you’re kissing him back, your muscles beginning to relax.  You sigh against his mouth when he pulls away.  “Thank you, Bucky,” you whisper.

He smiles up at you, pushing your hair behind your ear.  His gaze sweeps over you once more, making sure you’ve calmed down before he returns to his seat.  “So, dinner’s on the house.  What do you say we get the most expensive thing on the menu?” he sends you a cheeky grin, flipping open his menu once again.

You laugh lightly, shaking your head at him.  Putting the strange encounter behind you, you return to looking at your own menu.

The rest of dinner is uneventful. You talk with Bucky about his job. He explains that he’s currently working on a design for a casino.  Underworld creatures sure enjoyed their acts of sin, gambling included.

After your plates have been cleared, the waiter brings you both a dessert to share, also compliments of the chef. You wonder briefly if it’s his way of apologizing, or if what he saw really had been  _that_ bad.  Bucky holds your hand in his the entire drive back to his place, his thumb gently caressing your skin.

He pulls your bag out of the trunk and takes your hand once more to pull you to the elevator.  The ride up to his pent house is silent, the two of you once again consumed by your thoughts.  When the doors open, you follow him down the hall to the living room. He detours to put your bag in his room while you head for the window.

Your arms are crossed over your chest, providing a sort of self-comfort as you gaze out over the city.  Bucky’s heat soon envelops you, his hands resting at your hips as his chest molds to your back.

“I don’t think I got the chance to tell you how amazing you looked tonight.”  His husky voice pulls you from your thoughts.

A smile tugs at your lips. You lean back against him, seeking his comfort.  His hands move forward, splayed over your abdomen, to hold you close.  “Thank you.”  The two of you fall into another silence, eyes sweeping over the view.  “I missed you,” you find yourself admitting.

Bucky tilts his head, lips brushing against your temple.  “I missed you, too.”  You’re a little surprised by the sincerity in his voice.

“Bucky, can I ask you something?” you enquire hesitantly, your hands moving to frame his against your stomach.

He hums his consent.

“When was the last time you fed?” You kind of hate yourself for having to ask.  You  _know_  you shouldn’t be so insecure.  It’s his lifestyle and it has nothing to do with you. But you had to know, even if you were going to hate his answer.

“Sunday,” he tells you.

“Sunday?” you question in surprise.  Leaning your head back against his shoulder, you look up at him.  “But I thought you said you had to feed every couple of days.”

“That’s after one,  _normal_  transference.  We shared multiple couplings and you gave me more energy than I knew what to do with.  Honestly, I can probably  _still_ go a few more weeks.”

His words fill you with relief that you know you have no right to feel, but it’s comforting nevertheless.  “So you’re not hungry?”

His grip on you tightens.  “Well, I wouldn’t say  _that_.”

His head dips down, lips grazing the side of your neck.  One hand remains firmly pressed to your abdomen while the other reaches for the zipper at the back of your dress.  Your whole body shivers when the zipper reaches the end of its track.

“Should we move this to the bedroom, then?” you ask, already becoming breathless in anticipation.

He flicks the straps off your shoulder, the top half of the dress falling down, only to catch where his hand is pressed to your belly.  “No. Here,” his voice is gruff.  Dark.

“H-here?” your breaths hitch in your throat.  “But the window…”  Bucky’s hand moves, pushing the dress passed your hips and letting it pool to the floor. “What if someone sees?” you question, already hyper aware that you’re standing at a floor to ceiling window with nothing but your undergarments and high heels to cover your modesty.

“Let them,” Bucky growls into your ear.  He grips your waist, tugging you back slightly to feel how hard he’s become in his pants.  You can’t help the small whimper that escapes you.  “Let them watch.”  He grinds against you and you can feel your panties soak up your slick.  “Let them see how well you take my cock.  Let them see how much you beg for it.  Let them  _know_  that you belong to me.”

“Oh God,” you breathe already becoming shaky in your heels.

“Put your hands on the glass,” Bucky orders.

You do as you’re told.  It’s a startling cold against your burning palms. And already condensation begins to form an outline around their placement.  You hear the rustling of fabric behind you and you realize Bucky’s taking off his clothes.  Your heart beats like a drum against your rib cage, you’re sure he can hear it.

When he presses to your back once more, it’s skin on skin contact.  You inhale sharply, relishing in the burn you feel wherever he’s pressed. You don’t realize how  _completely_  naked he is until you feel the head of his cock brush against your covered core.

“You want this, Lumina?” he questions, rocking his erection against the tiny slip of fabric that’s preventing him from sinking into you.  “You want them to watch me fuck you?”

Any reservations you had about doing this are gone in an instant.  A needy whine escapes your lips, as you push your ass to his hips.  “Yes, Bucky.   _Please!_ ”  You’d been desperate for his cock ever since you arrived home Sunday night.  And now that it was  _right there_ , you couldn’t find it in yourself to care where you were when you got it.  Hell, you’d probably have let him take you on a table in the middle of the fucking restaurant if he’d offered.

“No ripping the dress, but you said nothing about these.”  Gripping the elastic of your panties from either side, he tugs harshly, ripping them in two.

“God damn it, Bucky,” you huff, though you’re too turned on to  _really_  care.

Your lips part in a gasp when one of his hands descends your stomach and settles between your folds. He rubs up and down the length of you, spreading your slick.  “Always so wet, for me.  Good girl.”

“Bucky…” you release a shaky breath, pushing a little harder against the glass.

“Tell me, did you touch yourself this past week?” he asks you, whispering directly into your ear.

You bite your bottom lip, suppressing a moan.  “Y-yeah,” you admit, your head too clouded with lust to even think about lying.

“Did you think about me?” His finger moves up to press slow circles to your clit.

“Yes,” you tell him.

“Did you pretend it was me, touching you like this?”  His finger moves back down and then it’s inside you, immediately curling into your g-spot.

“Yes!  Oh, yes, Bucky!”  You grind yourself into his palm, feeling the pressure of his finger increase inside you.

Bucky rests his forehead against the side of your hair, his breath fanning across your neck with every exhale. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you either.  Had to jerk off three fucking times Monday morning because your scent was still all over my bedsheets.”

You release a pitiful whimper, the image burned in your mind of Bucky splayed out on his bed, one hand clutching the sheets, the other strangling his cock.  You wanted to see it for real now.  Watch him fuck his fist while you weren’t allowed to do anything but observe.

Your knees grow week and you’re almost positive that the only thing keeping you upright is his finger in your cunt.  Your vision turns hazy, the lights of the city turning into blurred circles.  Bucky eases the pressure on your upper wall, before he slips out, transitioning to work solely on your clit.  He rubs it between two fingers, picking up a brutal pace.

You can feel your climax building, muscles tensing and thighs beginning to shake.  Your breath escapes you in quick pants, the glass fogging up more every time you breathe out.  Just before you’re about to reach your peak, Bucky’s hips slam forward and he sinks into you with one fluid movement.

You cry out loudly, sinking your hips back, your orgasm clamping down on the thick resistance of his cock. Your nails scratch at the glass, your sweaty palms almost losing their grip.  He feels even bigger than before as your walls eagerly squeeze around his hardened length in an effort to milk him for cum he’s not ready to give yet. You’d never climaxed so fast in your life, it was like whiplash.

And knowing Bucky, he wasn’t going to finish this round with you until you’d had  _at least_  one more.  This is just the beginning.  The fluttering in your walls has just barely begun to subside when he starts to move. His grabs your hips with both hands, holding you tight and keeping you still.  You continue to push your hands against the glass, arms locked so you feel the full force of his thrusts.  If you had any sense left, you might have been concerned that he’d fuck you until the window broke.  Wouldn’t that be a hell of a way to go.

You lean forward until your upper body is nearly parallel to the floor.  Sinking your hips back, you moan loudly, your eyes rolling back when Bucky hits you even deeper.  Your breasts bounce against the confines of your bra, the two of you a little too eager to remember to take it off.  Bucky’s cock feels amazing inside you.  You’d tried to mimic the feelings that he could give you when you’d been home and too restless to fall asleep.  But nothing would ever compare.  It wasn’t difficult to see how easily incubus sex could become addicting.

 _Nothing_  would ever be able to make you feel  _so much_.  Not your fingers, not your toys, not another man.  Hell, you’re not even sure another  _incubus_  would be able to make you feel this good.  He’s thick, but not painfully so.  He’s long enough to reach you in spots you didn’t even know existed in your body.  And he’s heavy enough, that your body can still feel the weight of him inside you after he’s already pulled out.

He could make every single hair on your body stand on end.  He could make you feel pleasure so intense it was like two stars colliding.  When he was buried to the hilt inside you,  _everything_ else seemed to just fade away.  It was just you and him.  Two beings merging into one.

“Bucky…” you keen, feeling your second orgasm of the night start to build.

“You gonna come for me again, Lumina?” he growls from deep in his chest.  “You take my cock so well.  Squeezing me so tight.  Could spend the rest of my life buried inside you.”  He grunts, his fingers leaving bruises on your hips from how tight he’s holding you.

“Oh God, Bucky!”  He shifts the angle of his hips ever so slightly, allowing his tip to drag against your g-spot with each thrust.  You scream loudly in both relief and ecstasy when your climax hits.  You’re losing traction on the glass, and you’re not sure how much longer you can last in the heels anyways.

You squeeze him even tighter the second time around.  “Oh fuck,” he groans, his release triggered by yours.  His hips stutter to a stop, the muscles in his stomach and thighs tensing. You milk him for everything he’s worth, and after a week without physical contact, he’s got a lot to give.  He falls forward, chest framing your back and his hands reach out to the glass next to yours.

You both breathe heavily, bodies shuddering, muscles aching.  You’re surprised you’re still standing when all you want to do is crumple to the floor.

“Well…” you huff out.  “I hope whoever was watching enjoyed the show.”

Bucky chuckles, his forehead resting against to back of your shoulder.  “It’s tinted glass,” he confesses.

You take a couple more deep breaths.  “What?”

“No one would have seen anything.”

A tired laugh escapes you in a small puff.  “You asshole.”

You can feel his smile when he places a kiss to your skin.  “Wanted to see if you’d let me.”

“I think we both know by now that I’d let you do just about anything as long as it feels good.”

Bucky’s entire body vibrates with a growl.  “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”


	4. Chapter 4

The gentle rise and fall of your head against Bucky’s chest keeps you relaxed, the rhythmic exhales of his breath brushing ever so slightly against the crown of your hair.  He’s got one arm curled underneath you, his hand pressed to your back to keep you close.  Your legs are a tangled mess beneath the sheets of his bed.  His body heat engulfs you with warmth and a sense of tranquility you know you won’t find anywhere else.

“Bucky?” you voice quietly, not wanting to disturb the atmosphere that’s been created between you two.

“Hmm?” his hum is so low, it’s almost a growl.

“Can I ask you about being an incubus?”

He can’t help but smile, amused by your inability to control your curiosity.  “Of course, Lumina.”

“What’s it like for you?”

“What’s what like?”

“The sex.”  You run your hand over his bare chest, watching your fingers dance across his skin.  “Like, is it as intense for you as it is for me?”

“It depends,” he starts. “With you, yes, things are rather intense.  It feels better and the energy lasts longer.  The transference is stronger with humans than other creatures of myth. With only one exception.  At least in my experience.”

“What was the exception?”

“An ethereal.”

You lift your head off his chest, looking up at him in shock.  “You’ve slept with an ethereal?”

He releases a soft chuckle. “Just once.”

“What was  _that_  like?”

“Intense,” he jokes.  When you send him a pouty glare, he explains further with a grin.  “The energy was very potent, but it didn’t last nearly as long as it does with you.”

You hum thoughtfully.  “Was she fire or lightning?” you ask curiously.

He laughs again.  “It’s kind of cute that you would assume it was a female,” he grins teasingly.

Your brows shoot up in surprise. “You slept with a  _male_  ethereal?”

Keeping one arm around your waist, he lifts the other to tuck his hand behind his head, a smug grin curling at his lips.  “Yes. And to answer your question, he was bonded to lightning.”

“Wow,” you breathe, slowly overcoming your shock.  “Do you sleep with males often?” you question curiously.

Bucky shrugs a shoulder. “You have to remember that sex is different for an incubus.  We use it to feed, not necessarily for the emotional connection.  The gender of my partner doesn’t matter nearly as much as the energy transference.”

He hadn’t meant to, but something about his words strikes a chord within you and you frown.  You push yourself off his chest, holding the bedsheet in place as you sit up.  “Is that why you’re keeping me around then?  Because the energy transference is so strong?”  You feel a sting in your chest.  You hadn’t realized until this moment that there was a possibility he was just using you.

“What?” he asks, a little thrown by how fast the conversation shifted.  “Lumina, no.  It’s not that.”  He sits up as well.  “Do you really think I’m the kind of man that would do something like that?”

You shrug defensively, keeping your gaze downcast.  “I don’t know.  We hardly know each other.”

His hand reaches out, gently cupping your cheek and lifting your gaze.  His eyes are sincere as he looks back at you.  “Then ask me more questions.  Get to know me.”

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth.  Now that your insecurities have been bared, it’s difficult to hold the rest in. “Last weekend you said that demons couldn’t love.  Is that true?”

Bucky has to hold back a grimace. That wasn’t exactly what he meant by ask him questions.  “Love is a complex emotion, Lumina.  And demons are simple creatures.”

He can physically see you retreat a little further into your shell.  “So, then it  _is_ true.”

He sighs, almost wishing that it was easier to lie to you.  “I’ve never met a demon that’s admitted to falling in love,” he tells you.  But before you can pull away from him, he quickly adds, “But that doesn’t mean we can’t experience emotions or feelings of attachment.  We display our affections, we feel happy when those we care about are happy, and sad when they are sad.  I’m a demon, not a robot.”

“Do you care for a lot of people?”

“I care for  _you_ ,” he admits honestly.  “And it’s not because of the transference.  Yes, the sex we have is pretty phenomenal, but I also enjoy talking with you, making you laugh, feeling your body tucked against mine. Do you really think I share my past with just anyone?  We knew each other  _one day_  and already I was willing to answer anything you asked me.  Hell, after a few  _minutes_  I brought you to my  _home_. You’re the only person I’ve brought here.  The only woman to ever share this bed with me.  When I’m with you, Lumina… there’s no one else.  Do you understand how significant that is for an incubus to say?”

Your heart pounds in your chest as he seems to wipe away your insecurities with just a few words.  You can’t even help it when you lean forward to press your lips to his.  You’re so drawn to him it’s almost as if there are outside forces at work.  Call it destiny, or fate.  You didn’t care.  Being with someone had never felt so  _right_.

Bucky kisses you back fervently. His hand cups the back of your neck, fingers making their way into your hairline.  He gently guides you back down onto the mattress, the thin sheet becoming trapped between your bodies.  His mouth molds to yours, also aiding in the removal of your insecurities.  He kisses you with purpose, trying to convey his earlier words through his actions.

When he pulls back, you’re absolutely breathless.  Your gazes meet once more, his eyes are soft and tender.  “If it means that much to you, we can spend the rest of the weekend just getting to know one another.  Let me prove to you that this isn’t  _just_  about the sex.”

You find yourself smiling up at him, your hand reaching out to brush his hair back.  Just the fact that he was  _willing_ to forgo sex to work on your relationship with each other was enough for you.  You release a low hum, pretending to think it over.  “But you already promised that you were going to fuck me against every piece of furniture you own…  Maybe we can try the whole talking thing next weekend.”

He grins crookedly down at you, his gaze flickering between yours.  “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you say fuck.”

You laugh lightly.  “Maybe you haven’t been trying hard enough to get me to say it.”

He smirks wickedly. Challenge accepted.

When Bucky takes you home Sunday night, there’s a satisfied ache between your legs that you know you’re going to need the week to recover from.  He kept to his promise and he managed to draw out plenty of curses from your lips over the last two days.

You part with a heated kiss, leaving nips on lower lips so the sting will remain after you’ve separated. Unspoken promises are created for the next weekend.  And at least this time, you’ve got his phone number.  As you enter your apartment, you’re on cloud nine.

“Have an eventful weekend?” Wanda asks you with a knowing grin.

You bite your bottom lip, unable to hide your grin.  “Mhmmm….”

She laughs.  “You look worn out.”

“I tell ya, he’s a god damn machine.”

“Take a shower then come join me for a movie.  I can smell the sex on you from over here.”

You shoot her a grin, and head to your room.  “I’m sorry if my sexified stench offends you.”

She sticks her tongue out at you, her eyes shining with humor.

The work week once more passes like normal.  That is… until Thursday night hits.  Tuesdays and Thursday are your workout nights.  There’s a 24 hour gym just a few blocks from your apartment, and you do your best to stay on routine.  Saturdays used to also be a part of the routine, but you figure you’re getting enough of a workout now, that it’s not exactly necessary.

Because the gym is so close, you typically walk, unless its pouring rain.  But it’s a clear night tonight, a little warm too.  Your muscles burn slightly in satisfaction as you make your way home.  You’d just completed your workout and you were more than ready for a quick shower and maybe some Netflix before bed.

One earbud is tucked into your ear, the other dangling loose as you bob your head to the catchy beat filling your head.  You’re not really paying attention, lost to the music and your thoughts.  Which is why you don’t feel the presence behind you until it’s too late.

A hand clamps around your upper arm moments before you’re thrown to the side.  Your body impacts with the unyielding brick of the building framing the sidewalk.  You gasp in surprise, looking up at your attacker.

Glowing red eyes meet your gaze, they shine with anger.  “I’ve been looking for you, little angel.”

You feel your heart drop to your stomach when you realize who this is.  It’s the vampire from the club.  “What do you want?” you’re surprised when your voice comes out braver than you feel.

“You think you can just walk into an under club without there being any consequences?  Did you really think you could hide from us?  Were you gonna tell your superiors what you saw there?”

You shake your head quickly. “No.  I don’t work for SHIELD.”

He releases a threatening growl. “Why am I having a hard time believing that?  Oh yeah, because you descendants are nothing but filthy liars.”  He grabs your shoulders in a harsh grasp.

“No!  Let me go!,” you struggle against his hold, but your muscles are already weak from your workout.  You’re no match for a vampire anyway.  Even at full strength.

His eyes flash from red to a soulless black and when he opens his mouth, his incisors have elongated. “This world will be a whole lot better without your kind in it.”

You never cease your struggles, even if you know you won’t win.  “Stop!  Let me go!” You’re not entirely sure what guides your movement, but you find yourself pushing your hand out.  You palm slams into his chest and suddenly there’s a flash of blinding white light.

You hear his hiss of pain, and just as suddenly as the flash appears, his hands are off you and you take the opportunity to run.  You don’t give yourself the luxury to think about what just happened, all you can focus on is getting away.  Your heart bangs in your chest, pumping blood to your weary muscles.  The vampire can probably smell the fear wafting out of your system in thick waves.

He’s going to follow it, he’s going to find you.  You have to get somewhere safe.

You close your eyes, picturing the one place you know you’ll be safest.  But with how fast your mind is racing, you can’t for the life of you figure out how to get there.

Without warning, you feel a tug deep in your gut, like the floor has just dropped from beneath you. Releasing a startled gasp, you open your eyes.  You automatically assume the worst, that the vampire recovered and pounced on you.

But looking around… the vampire isn’t in sight.  In fact… you’re on a completely different  _street_.

“What?” you gasp out, looking around in confusion.  What the hell just happened?  How did you get here?  Where even  _was_  here?

You realize you’re standing next to a large building.  Looking up, it only takes a second to realize that it’s  _Bucky’s_  building.  You breathe a sigh of relief, because even if you couldn’t for the life of you figure out how you got here, at least it meant you were safe.

You push open the large glass door and enter the lobby.  After stepping through, you realize you’ve actually never entered the building this way, and thus you have no idea where to go.

“May I help you?” a voice pulls your attention to the front desk.  The lobby is built more like a hotel’s rather than an apartment complex. The concierge desk is wide and thick, separating you from the man standing on the other side.

You approach hesitantly, hyper aware of your recent altercation with beings of this man’s ilk.  You can tell he isn’t human, but you’re not entirely sure what exactly he  _is_  either.  Glancing at his name tag, you read the name Scott.

“Um… hi.  I need to see James Barnes.  It’s an urgent matter,” it’s difficult to keep the panic within you from making your voice waiver, but you seem to manage.

The man’s gaze washes over you. “I’m afraid Mr. Barnes isn’t accepting visitors tonight, Miss.”

“Please,” you choke out, the panic beginning to make your body shake.  “It’s important that I see him right away.”

The man gives you a look of realization.  “Oh, I believe I understand what’s happening.  I’m afraid you’re going to have to find relief from your withdrawals elsewhere, ma’am.”

“What?” you look at him in confusion, until it hits you.  He thinks you’re an incubus sex addict.  And honestly, you’re probably showing all the symptoms.  The shaking, harsh breaths, the desperation to see an incubus.  You shake your head at him, “No, it’s not like that.  I’m a friend of his.  Please, I  _need_ to see him!”

“I cannot help you.  Please don’t make me call security on you.”

You gape at him.  You don’t know what else to do.  All you do know is that if you don’t see Bucky soon, you’re going to have a complete mental breakdown in the middle of this lobby.

Because of how frazzled your mind is, it takes a while for you to remember that you have his fucking  _phone number_.  Your hand grasps at the strap holding your phone to your arm. You realize briefly that the chord to your earbuds had been yanked out of your phone and was now missing, but it’s a fleeting thought.  Ripping the phone out of the case, you nearly scratch your arm with your nails.  Your hands are shaking so bad, it takes effort just to get into your contacts.  You scroll down, glad you put him in as Bucky and not James.

The phone finally begins to dial and you place it to your ear.  A tiny part of you is terrified that he’s not going to answer, but he does after the second ring.

“Hey.”

“Bucky!” you breathe out in relief, the puff of air just as shaky as everything else.  “I need your help.”  It’s becoming harder and harder to keep it together.  A few tears slip out of your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” his voice is steady and strong and you desperately try to hang onto it.

“The vampire.  From the club.  He came after me,” a choked sob escapes you.

“What?!  Tony?!”  You can hear the anger in his voice, and despite knowing that it’s not directed toward you, you can’t help but flinch.

“I got away.  I don’t know how.  There was this light, I think…?  I-  Bucky I was so scared,” your voice breaks off into a pitiful whimper.

“Where are you?  Are you safe?”

You sniff, attempting to wipe away some of your tears.  “I’m in the lobby of your building.”

“I’ll be right down,” he tells you quickly.

“Okay,” you sniff again. Your shoulders sag in relief, the hand holding your phone falling limp to your side.

The few seconds it takes for his elevator to descend seem to tick so slowly.  But then a soft ding rings throughout the room and suddenly he’s there. His black slacks are slung low on his hips.  The white dress shirt he wears is unbuttoned, the material hanging loose against his sides. His steps are hurried as he approaches you, bare feet barely audible against the tile.

“Lumina, are you hurt?” Concern lines his features as he reaches out to cradle your jaw in his palms.

You shake your head, a few more tears spilling, only to be caught by his thumbs.  His gaze washes over you.

“Your shoulders are bruised. Did he bite you?”

You shake your head again. “I think he was going to.  I stopped him somehow.  I don’t-  I don’t know…”

He releases an angry growl, the blue in his eyes flashing to black for a brief moment.  “I’m gonna kill him.”

“No!” you cry out, launching yourself forward.  You bury your face into his chest and wrap your arms tightly around his torso. “Don’t go.  Please!”  You can’t bear the thought of being alone.  Not right now.

“Hey,” Bucky softens his voice, his arms coming around you in a comforting embrace.  He can feel how hard you’re shaking, it makes his chest ache. “It’s okay.  You’re safe here.  I’ll protect you.”  He lowers his head, placing a kiss to the top of your hair.  You only tighten your hold on him even further.  “You got away from him.  You’re safe,” he whispers to you soothingly.

You inhale sharply, slowly lifting your head from his chest to look up at him.  “That’s another thing,” you whisper back.  “Bucky, I don’t even know  _how_  I got here.”

He doesn’t seem particularly shocked by this revelation, he merely nods and continues to hold your gaze. “Alright.  Let’s get you upstairs.  Then we can figure this out together.”

“Okay.”  Your voice is so small and weak, almost like a child’s.

Bucky keeps your body tucked into his side.  He looks over to the man at the desk, who has grown quite pale upon witnessing your interaction.  “Scott, see to it that she’s given full access to my pent house.  She’s never to be barred from entrance again.”

The man nods frantically. “Yes, Mr. Barnes.  My apologies.”

With one arm still around you, Bucky guides you to the elevator.  You realize that this must be a different elevator from the usual one, because there are actual buttons on this one.  Bucky presses for the top floor.  The silence between the two of you is broken only by your quiet sniffles and the occasional shuffle of clothing as you try to burrow further into him.

The elevator doors open to a small entrance room.  There’s a door on the other side.  Bucky pulls his keys out of his pocket and unlocks the door.  Some of the tension seems to leave your body when you step into his apartment.  This is as safe as you’re going to get.

Bucky turns to face you, pushing some of your hair back and continuing to look at you in concern. “How about I draw you a bath?”

You nod your agreement.  He takes you to the bathroom in his bedroom. Keeping your hands clasped, he uses his other hand to turn the taps and start the flow of water.  It doesn’t take long to heat up before he plugs the drain and allows the bath to fill.

He stands and turns back to you. He gives you a tender look, his eyes flickering over your form.  “Can I undress you?”  He may have already done so a dozen times, but after the trauma you’ve just gone through, he doesn’t want to startle you further.

You nod once more.  His movements are slow, giving you time to anticipate his moves before he makes them.  He reaches for your phone first, prying it from your fingers where you hadn’t even realized you were clutching onto it like a lifeline.  He then pulls off your tank top and your sports bra. Bending down, he helps you out of your running shoes and socks before pulling your yoga pants and underwear down your legs.

“Can you join me?” you ask vulnerably as he stands again.

“Of course,” he agrees, shrugging out of his shirt.  After tossing his pants to the side he bends back down to check the water temperature and then turns off the taps.  He gets in first and then holds your hips as you follow to make sure you don’t slip.

He settles back against the rim, pulling your body flush to his as you settle between the V of his legs. The heat from the water mixes with the heat coming off of him and as you lean back against his chest, you can finally feel yourself beginning to relax.

“Where were you when it happened?” Bucky asks after a long moment of silence has passed.

Honestly, you want to just forget the whole ordeal, but you know you have to talk about it.  “I was walking home from the gym.  It’s only a few blocks away.”

His hands circle your stomach, pulling you a little closer.  “Can you tell me what happened?”

You release a shaky breath. “He came up behind me.  Grabbed my arm and threw me against a brick wall.  I think he thought I worked for SHIELD.  He said this world would be a better place without descendants in it.  Then his eyes turned black and he opened his mouth.  I begged him to stop, to let me go.  And then… then I don’t even  _know_  what happened.”

Bucky’s head bends down as he brushes his lips against your shoulder.  “ _Try_  to describe it.”

“I… um.  I put my hand out,” mimicking your movements from before, you lift your hand out of the water and hold it up.  “It was against his chest…  And then there was a flash of light.  I don’t know where it came from.  From me? Maybe?  I heard him hiss, possibly in pain, or just from anger.  But he let me go and so I ran.”

“And then what happened?”

Your hand lowers back into the water.  “I was scared he was going to come after me again.  So I tried to think of the safest place I could go.  All I could think about was being here.  But then, next thing I know, I  _am_  here.  And I don’t… How…  Bucky, what’s happening to me?”

He can tell you’re scared, and he’d give just about anything to take your fear from you.  “Your powers are emerging,” he tells you.  “And quite rapidly, it would seem.”

Your breath hitches in your throat.  “My powers?”

“There’s a chance that being with me has triggered them.  The demonic energy from our couplings, it must have activated them in you. Normally descendants don’t get their powers unless given intense training.  This is something I should have foreseen, I’m sorry Lumina.”

You release a soft sigh, settling your hands over his and entwining your fingers.  “It’s not your fault.  It takes two to tango.”

He places a kiss to your temple, his fingers squeezing yours gently.

“Can you help me control them? What if I accidentally use them on you? I don’t want to hurt you,” you frown. Using them against raging vampires was one thing, but if you were to hurt Bucky, you’d never forgive yourself.

He huffs out a quick laugh. “I’m afraid I’m not the correct person for that job.  Demons harness energy quite differently from descendants.  But Talia may be able to help.”

“Talia?” you question.  “But she hates me.”

“Let me talk to her.  I may be able to convince her.”

You bite your bottom lip. It might not be the most appealing option, but it was looking like the only viable one.  “Okay.  But only if you’re there too.”

He chuckles quietly, “Of course.”

“Do you even know what it was that I did?”

You feel Bucky nod his head. “Yeah.  It sounds like you used light manipulation and translocation. Both are pretty advanced moves, which is probably why Tony didn’t expect you to have either of them.”

Your lips turn down slightly.  “I still don’t understand.”

“Light manipulation allows you to create light.  Judging by Tony’s reaction, I think you may have created a burst sunlight.  And then translocation is basically just teleportation. You wanted to get somewhere safe badly enough that you were able to transport yourself here.  We have wards set up to prevent descendants from being able to translocate directly into the building, which is why you showed up out front, but it got you close.”

You take a moment to process this information.  It was difficult to believe that you could do  _either_  of those things, yet alone  _both_.

“Do you think that this might be what Vision meant by trials?” you find yourself asking.  The strange interaction with the seer was never too far from your mind, despite how much you’d try to distract yourself from it.

“I don’t know.  Maybe.  We’ll figure that one out together, too.”

You sigh quietly, sinking a little further into the water.  “I don’t like being the cause of your problems.”

Bucky tightens his hold on you, placing another kiss to your cheek.  “You’re not. If anything, this is all my fault.”

You release a humorless laugh. “We just keep going in circles with the blame, don’t we?”

He exhales in a laugh as well, the burst of air making your skin tingle.  “Yeah, I guess we do.  Wanna just share it?”

You find yourself smiling genuinely for the first time this night.  You lean your head back against his shoulder and look up at him.  “Sounds good to me.”

He smiles back at you.

You reach your hand up to cradle the back of his head, your eyes going soft.  “Thank you for coming to my rescue again.”

You watch his gaze flicker down to your lips.  “I didn’t even do anything.”

You smile, tugging him just a little closer.  “You’re here and that means everything to me.”

His eyes turn molten with tenderness and desire.  “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Your lips finally meet and you find yourself in complete agreement with him.


	5. Chapter 5

Friday night, you’re curled up in bed, laptop propped on your bent knees as you catch up on some of your Netflix shows.  Bucky had texted you earlier in the day that he was going to have to work late tonight, but that he’d take you to breakfast tomorrow morning.  Deciding whether or not  _you_  were going to work that day had been a bit of a struggle.  While the two of you had still been lying in bed, Bucky offered to stay with you and have the both of you call in sick, but in the end you declined.  You’d hoped that doing something mundane and normal would help to distract your mind from the events of last night.  It hadn’t.

So now, you were bundled under as many blankets as possible, dressed in a simple tank and panties, your gaze focused on the flickering images dancing across your laptop.

The sudden crash that sounds directly outside your window does nothing for your already frazzled nerves. There’s a fire escape out there, but the only person you’ve ever seen use it was the teenage boy a few doors down whenever he was trying to sneak out.  But for one, he was scarily quiet when he used it, and two he was away for the summer because of an internship.

A rasping knock against your window soon follows the crash.  Gasping quietly, you set your laptop down and reach for your phone on the nightstand.

“Y/N,” your name comes out gravely and low.

You pause mid reach.  That almost sounded like… Bucky?

Disregarding the voice in your head telling you to call the police, you kick the blankets off your legs and stand. Walking to your window, you push open your blinds.  A breath of relief escapes you when two familiar blue eyes look back through the glass. You lift up the bottom pane.

“Jesus Christ, Bucky.  You almost gave me a h- Holy fuck, is that  _blood_?!”

He’s covered nearly head to toe in dark red liquid.  It’s matted to his hair.  There’s a slice on his cheek, rips all over his clothes, and he seems to be clutching a pretty nasty gash on his side.  He grimaces, wincing from the pain.  “I need your help,” his voice is gruff, it almost doesn’t sound like him.

“What happened?” you ask incredulously.

He ignores your question. “I need you to invite me in.”

“What?” you hiss at his demand.

“Invite me in.  I’m too weak to get passed the wards and spells right now.” He huffs for breath, his jaw clenching.

“James Buchanan Barnes, get your demonic ass inside this window right now!”

He grunts, his free hand reaching out to grasp the sill.  “That works.”

You help to pull him through, the tiny space not exactly meant for someone of his size.  You get his top half through and then the rest of him kind of just comes tumbling forward.  He lands in a heap on your floor, groaning in pain.

“Fuck, that hurt.”

Using what little strength you have, you manage to get him upright.  “Can you  _please_  tell me what happened to you?” you ask again.

“Got into an argument.”

“With a  _bear_?!” your voice is growing increasingly more hysterical as time passes.

“Um…” he hesitates, stumbling a little until he makes it to your bed.  He lowers himself precariously onto the edge.  “More like vampire,” he admits.

Your shoulders drop as you stare at him like he’s grown two heads.  “Bucky, tell me you didn’t.”

He won’t meet your gaze and that’s all you need to know.

“God, you went after Tony?!”

“He hurt you,” he finally meets your glare with a look of determination.

“Do you even  _see_  yourself right now?!”  You gesture to the bloody state he currently finds himself in.

As if you’ve just reminded him of his wounds, he winces once more, releasing another grunt of pain.  “Can we discuss this a little later?  I could really use your help.”

Lifting your hands to your face, you dig your palms into your eyes, trying to prepare yourself for what’s to come.  “Shit. I think I have a first aid kit in my bathroom.”

Lowering your hands, you move to walk passed him, only to be stopped when his hand clasps around your wrist. “No, wait.”  He carefully meets your gaze, already anticipating your reaction to his next words.  “I just need energy.”

Your brows furrow in confusion. “Energy?  Wha-”  When it hits you, you look at him completely horrified.  “You want to have  _sex_?! Are you out of your god damn mind?”

“Incubi can heal from the transference,” he tries to explain to you.

“You’re fucking bleeding  _everywhere_!”  You feel like you have to remind him, because you honestly think he doesn’t know.

He sighs, tightening his hold on your wrist because it looks like you’re ready to bolt.  “I know, it’s weird.  But I need you to do this for me, Lumina.  If not, I’m gonna have to compel someone else to do it, and I’m pretty sure that’ll piss you off a hell of a lot more than me showing up here like this.”

“Oh god…” You breathe, unable to believe that you were actually considering this.  “Bucky this is  _crazy_.”

“Y/N, please.”

You groan like  _you’re_  the one in pain, squeezing your eyes shut. “Okay,” you relent, taking a steady breath.  “Okay, just… lay back.”

He slowly releases your wrist, grunting quietly as he does as you ask.

You open your eyes, biting your bottom lip as you look him over again.  It looks  _bad_.  Your hands shake a little as you reach to push his shirt up. You gasp when the wound on his side is revealed.  It’s like a whole chunk of flesh had been ripped out of him.  Blood is still leaking out of it, steadily staining your bedsheets. The skin around the wounds is swollen, it looks infected.  And not only that, but his veins around the wound have started to turn black.

You cup your hand over your mouth, trying to prevent the gag you can feel building in your throat.  You shake your head, “James, I don’t think I can do this.”

He places his hand back over the wound, shielding your view slightly from it.  “I can’t make you.  But that means you have to be okay with me going somewhere else.”  He doesn’t say it to make you feel guilty, it’s just a matter of fact.

But he’s also right.  You wouldn’t be able to take it if he went somewhere else.  To  _someone_  else.  “What if I hurt you more?” you whisper in fear.  You don’t like seeing him pain, but you can only imagine sex making everything  _worse_.

“Lumina, you can trust me when I tell you that you won’t.  It’ll be okay, I promise.”

You gnaw at your bottom lip as you reach for his belt buckle.  His dark wash jeans are also covered in rips and tears.  With the fly open, you do your best to shimmy the jeans down his legs.  Bucky hisses through his teeth.  The blood from one of the larger cuts on this thigh had begun to dry, making the denim stick to his skin.  You immediately pull your hands back when you realize what’s happening.

“Shit!  I’m sorry!”  You feel tears welling in your eyes, a combination of the stressful situation and feeling horrible for making his pain worse.

“It’s okay,” he grunts out. “Don’t stop.”  He breathes harshly through his nose, his fingers clenching around your bedsheets.

Scared to hurt him further, you only pull his jeans down to his knees.  His boxer briefs are next, and with how easily the material stretches, it’s easier to work with.  You stare for a moment at the area of exposed skin between his thighs.  You’re pretty sure there  _used_  to be a time when you knew how to make a man hard, but with how scattered your brain is, you can’t seem to recall the information.

“Just touch me, Lumina,” Bucky advises, recognizing the clueless look on your face.

You’d think this was the first time you’d ever touched a dick with how careful you are with him.  Even though this was pretty much the  _one_  place on his body where he wasn’t scratched to all hell, you still used the softest of touches on him.

Bucky releases a quite sigh, some of the tension easing from his face as his eyes close.  “Little more, sweetheart.”

You curl your fingers completely around him, giving him lengthened strokes.  With how much blood he’s already lost, it’s hard to think that there’s anything left to flow to the juncture of his thighs, but sure enough, he begins to harden in your palm.  With that task accomplished, you release him allowing his length to rest against his stomach. You then straighten up to push your panties down your legs.

But then you realize your next dilemma.  Blood most definitely  _wasn’t_  a turn on for you. And there’s no way Bucky was fitting inside you without any lubrication.  Releasing a shaky breath, you lift a knee onto the mattress.  He’s told you that everything was going to be okay, you just had to trust him.  You lift your other leg from the floor, placing your knee on the other side of him. You carefully lower yourself down until you’re straddling his hips.

You can feel him twitch beneath you, the underside of his cock pressed to the length of your folds.  A small whimper escapes you as your body begins to respond to his closeness.  The demonic energy that normally flows out of him like lava seems a little weaker.  The areas where your skin touches his are warm, but not the usual burning hot.  It’s a little worrying, at first.  But then you feel a zing run up your spine and a little bit of wetness appears between your legs.

Your hips grind down of their own accord, your folds brushing against his length.  The two of you groan in unison, feeling your energies beginning to mix.

“That’s it, Lumina.  Keep going,” Bucky encourages.

You rock your hips back and forth in gentle motions, feeling your slick building with each swipe.  It’s a strange experience, to have your body coming to life with arousal while your head is in a different space all together. You were still worried about him, and honestly still freaked out that you were even doing this, but if he said it would help, then you had to try.

When you’re sure that you’re ready, you lift your hips and wrap a hand around his base before guiding yourself onto him.  The familiar stretch of your walls as your body accepts his is a little comforting. Closing your eyes, you can almost forget what’s really going on.  His energy grows a little stronger, now that you’re connected.  Your hips soon meet his, his full length sheathed within your walls.

You lean forward, your hands against the mattress just above his shoulders.  Your eyes open, meeting his gaze.  There’s significantly less strain on his features, and the cut on his cheek already looks better.  You start with a slight roll of your hips, feeling how he pulses inside you.  Your body shudders.  You slowly gain more confidence when your motions don’t appear to hurt him.

Using the muscles in your thighs, you lift your hips up.  With just the head of his cock still buried in you, you pause for a moment before sliding back down his length.  His hands move to grip your hips, guiding your movement.  You bite your bottom lip, trying desperately to  _not_  think about how the hand that had been clutching his wound is now smearing blood against your skin.

“Bucky?” you call out, needing his reassurance, because you still feel like you have no idea what you’re doing.

“You can go faster, Lumina. It’s okay.”  His hands squeeze your hips urgently.

“O-okay,” you do as he says, slowly building momentum until you’re slamming yourself down onto him.  Your fingers grasp at the sheets trying to keep yourself grounded.  It’s still a completely bizarre sensation, to be feeling the pleasure in your body, but not in your mind.  This was almost worse than having to fake an orgasm, because at least in  _that_  situation, your body and mind were on the same page.  This was like trying to fake an orgasm in your head, and your brain just wasn’t having it.

Still feeling concerned that you’re going to hurt him, you glance down with the intention of watching the place where your bodies meet.  Only you don’t quite make it that far.

Your body tenses completely, a shocked gasp pulling the air from your lungs as you watch in horror as James’s body repairs itself right before your eyes.  Dark liquid oozes from the wound at his side as the vampire venom leaves his system.  Once the venom is fully ejected, you can  _see_  the veins fusing back together, the gaps between broken muscles stretching to join once more, the skin regenerating…

“Oh my God…”  You can’t quite tell if you’re going to be sick or if you’re going to pass out.

“Y/N, don’t look at that,” Bucky advises, but it’s too late.  You can’t look away, and even if you did, you would never be able to  _unsee_  it.

Grunting with the effort, Bucky manages to roll you onto your back, taking a position over you.  The shock from the movement, successfully wrenches your gaze from the wound.

“Eyes on me, Lumina,” Bucky tells you, angling his body downward, so even if you were to pull your eyes from his, you wouldn’t see  _that_.

His body has recovered enough that he can take over the thrusts, which is good, because he’s pretty sure you  _can’t_.  The panic isn’t fading from your eyes, if anything, it’s only getting worse.  He hates himself a little and the guilt cuts deeper than anything the vampire gave him, because you’re  _scared_  and it’s  _his_ fault.  He knows he has to distract you, and whatever he does has to happen fast.  Because right now, your powers are triggered by your fear, and if there was ever a risk of you using your powers on him, it would be from this.

Your fear spikes to an insurmountable level, when Bucky’s eyes suddenly go red.  His head dips, and because you’re not exactly in a kissing mood, especially when he’s like  _that_ , you turn your head to the side.  You only realize that that hadn’t been his plan at all  _after_  his teeth have sunk into your shoulder.

The pain explodes in your neck, successfully wiping all thought from your mind.  And somehow, the intensity from it seems to catapult you straight into your climax.  You cry out loudly, both from pain and pleasure.  Your back arches, walls tightening around Bucky as his thrusts become more ferocious.  His jaw locks in place, just barely dancing the edge of breaking your skin.

Your body is pinned underneath the bulk of his weight as he fucks you into the mattress, the demon inside him taking over slightly as the need to finish the healing process outweighs everything else.  Your bedframe shudders with each impact of his thrusts, the cheap material not built to withstand such strain.

He doesn’t last much longer, the amount of energy he can consume from you making the process faster than it normally would have been, given the severity of his wounds.  His hips stutter to a stop, as he comes, filling you with his release.  His chest rumbles with a purring growl, feeling your energy flow directly into him, bathing him in its warmth.  He relishes in it for a moment, eyes closed, mind hazy.  It takes a minute for him to come back to himself.

When he does, he releases you almost instantly, his teeth unclamping from the curve where your neck meets your shoulder.  “Shit,” he curses to himself.

“Jesus, Bucky.  Did you just  _bite_  me?” you whimper, feeling a throb beneath the surface of your skin. Lifting a hand, you hold it to the mark, hoping that by adding pressure, it might ease some of the sting.

“Sorry.  I didn’t mean-  I think my body’s still trying to burn off the vampire blood from my system.”

“What-  Why is his blood even  _in_  your system?”

He winces at your tone, feeling like a berated a child, a feeling he hasn’t felt in a  _long_  time.  “He kept biting  _me_  and I got… pissed off…”

“ _So you bit him back?!_   What the hell, James?!”

He grimaces, it honestly hadn’t seemed like a big deal at the time.  “It was a reaction.  And I swear, I didn’t mean to bite you too, Lumina.  It’s just… when two different creatures mix their blood, there’s always side effects.”

You lift both of your hands to your face, covering your eyes as you release a shaky breath.  You still had yet to recover from the events of  _last_  night and to now figure out how to deal with all of  _this_?  You’re pretty sure you’ve already surpassed your mental capacity for  _complete insanity_.  “James,” you force his name out as calmly as you possibly can.  You keep your hands over your eyes, because you already know what look he’s giving you, but if you were to actually see it, you’d lose your resolve.  “I’m going to need you to go into my bathroom and take a shower.”  Keeping your voice steady is a struggle, but the gravity of your words is not lost.

“Lumina…” you can hear the hurt in his voice and it makes tears prick beneath your eyelids.

“Please,” your lips tremble, breaking through the calm façade you’re trying to put in place.  “Just go.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry.”

“Do you have  _any_  idea how terrified I am right now?”  your voice comes out as a soft whisper, but with the way your words ring in his ears, Bucky would have thought you’d screamed them at him.

And what’s worse is he  _does_  have an idea.  With his senses back to full strength, he can  _smell_  the bitter scent of your fear mixed between the metallic tang of his blood.  “I’m sorry,” he repeats, his voice hoarse and laced with the guilt of his actions.

You feel his fingers brush against your wrists, attempting to pull your hands away from your face.  You shy away from his touch.  “Don’t.  Please, James.  I need some time to be mad at you.”

Bucky feels like his heart’s just been ripped out of his chest.  “…Do you want me to leave?”

It kills him when you seem to hesitate.  You bite your bottom lip before you shake your head.  “Just get into the shower.  Please?”

“Okay,” he complies.  He’s incredibly gentle when he moves to pull out of you.  He’s almost scared to lose contact with your body, like you’ll disappear if he does. You feel the brush of his lips against your hip bone as he moves off of you.  “I’m sorry,” he whispers once more.

You wait to hear the water turn on before removing your hands from your face.  You don’t even know where to  _begin_  to start processing all of this.  You stare up at the ceiling of your bedroom, just trying to wrap your head around the most recent events in your life.

So yes, you had  _known_  that Bucky was a demon.  But you guess it had never really registered that he could have his own set of powers,  _besides_ the whole mind-blowing sex thing…  I mean, you can create light from your hands  _and_ teleport, so was it  _really_  that shocking that sex could heal him?

And at least now that you knew, maybe it wouldn’t come as quite a shock next time.  Although, did you really want to stick around with a man that  _bites_ vampires when he’s angry?  Sure, you  _liked_  Bucky, a lot.  Probably more than you should…  But nothing quite puts a relationship into perspective like showing up to your window unannounced, covered in blood, and asking for a quick fuck.

You groan aloud, pushing yourself up, and curling your knees into your chest.  You sit on the edge of your bed, arms wrapped around your bent knees.

But then there’s the fact that he  _did_  come here.  He could have gone anywhere.  Probably would have been easier, too.  Incubi aren’t able to  _force_  someone to have sex with them.  But they  _can_  use some of their demonic energy to  _sway_ someone’s decision.  And being able to do so becomes necessary when you’re covered in cuts and blood and nobody in their  _right mind_  would want to go near you.  Not only that, but James would have been able to use that same energy to block out their memory, to keep them from remembering the exact thing you’d just witnessed.

He would have known that by coming here, his abilities wouldn’t have worked on you.  He would have  _known_  that it would probably scare you half to death.  But even so… instead of taking the easier option, he decided to come here.  He decided to trust you.  He decided to let  _you_  be the one to help him.

He’d had to choose between putting his trust in you, or risking the trust that you had in him.  And he chose you.

You can’t really find it in yourself to still be mad at him after drawing those conclusions, but you’re still not exactly  _happy_  with him yet, either. So, to kill a little more time, you get up and move to change your bedsheets.  If you don’t want them to stain permanently with his blood, you know that you have to get them into the wash like  _now_.  You pull your mattress protector off as well, happy to see it’s done its job to prevent any liquids from seeping into your mattress.

You add your tank top to the bloody pile, noticing the red handprint against the side.  You shrug into your bathrobe and bundle as much of the blood stains into the center of the pile before you pick everything up and head to the basement of the apartment complex where the community washer and dryers are located.  Luckily, it’s late enough that you don’t run into anyone.  Though at least by being a woman, you’ve got a potential excuse for having blood on your sheets…

The water’s still going when you make your way back up to your apartment.  You stand at your closed bathroom door, taking a few breaths to build the courage to open it.  You can hear the water running, but it doesn’t seem like there’s any other movement inside the tiny room.  When you finally open the door, you realize why.

The sliding glass doors are fogged up, but you can still clearly see through them.  Bucky’s got his back to you, head down, one hand pressed to the tile wall.  He stands under the spray of the shower, but is completely unmoving.  You wonder briefly if he’s been like that the whole time.

“Are you still mad?” he asks, his voice sounding broken.

It makes your chest ache. You shrug out of your bathrobe, letting it pool to the floor next to Bucky’s discarded pile of shredded clothes. Pushing open the door, you step through to join him in the steamy shower stall.  “No,” you finally tell him.  Stepping up behind him, you place your palm to the center of his back.  “Are you okay?” you ask.

You can both feel and watch the muscles in his back tense up beneath your touch.  He laughs without humor, “Should be asking you that.”

“I’m not the one that got into a fight with a vampire.”  You shift a little closer, resting your forehead against the center of his back. “Bucky, you scared the shit out of me,” you whisper, your voice wavering slightly.

His hand against the tile clenches into a fist.  “I shouldn’t have made you do that.”

You shake your head against him, “No that’s not what I meant.  Well… yeah, that part was a little freaky too, but…”  Your hands trace the lines of his muscles down to his waist.  “Seeing you hurt… all the blood… how  _in pain_  you were?   _That_  scared me more than the rest of it.”

Bucky releases a long sigh. “I’m sorry, Lumina.  You don’t deserve all the shit I put you through.”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing, I’ve already forgiven you.”  Your hands work your way around his torso as you press yourself to his back. You place a gentle kiss to his left shoulder blade.

“How can you be so forgiving?”

You smile against his skin and shrug a shoulder, “Must be the angel in me.”

He scoffs dryly, “Angels don’t forgive demons.”

“Well then I guess you’re lucky that I’m not completely an angel.”

He hums noncommittally.

The two of you share a moment of silence, rivulets of water fusing your skins together.  “Do you ever regret taking me to your apartment that night?” you ask quietly.

“No.” He responds almost instantly.  “Never.”

Your arms tighten around him just a little more.  “Me neither.”

His head turns toward you ever so slightly.  “Not even after tonight?”

“ _Especially_ , not after tonight.”  Lifting your head off his back, you look up at him, despite not being able to meet his gaze.  “Bucky, you could have gone  _anywhere_ , and just not told me.  But instead, you came here.  You trusted me.  Trusted that I’d be able to help you.  That I wouldn’t just turn you away.  You’ve come to my rescue twice now, and tonight I got to come to yours.”

His head drops again, the hand that hangs freely at his side, moving to frame yours against his stomach. “Thank you.  For everything, Lumina.  You truly  _are_ the light of my life.”

You can’t help but smile at that. “You’re welcome,” you tell him, but you know you can’t let him off that easy.  “Now that doesn’t excuse you from what you did.  Because getting into a fight with a vampire is probably the dumbest thing you could ever do.  And I think you’re 100% an idiot for doing that,” you chastise him, making it clear that you don’t approve of his methods.  “But at least you’re 100%  _my_  idiot.”

He releases a light laugh, the tension finally easing out of him.  The entire time he’d been standing in the shower, he’d been  _convinced_  that he’d blown it with you.  That it was over.  That you were going to tell him to get out and never come back.  He’d never been more relieved to be wrong about something.  Shifting from the wall, he turns to face you, his eyes connecting with yours.  “Are you staking your claim on me?” he asks with a tilted smirk.

You smirk back up at him. “I am.  Is that allowed?”

His hands move to your hips, pulling your body flush to his.  “It is, if I get to claim you back.”

“I’m pretty sure you already did,” you raise a brow, tilting your head to the side to showcase the bitemark on your neck.  It’s already started to bruise.

His gaze washes over the mark before his head leans down and he brushes his lips over it.  He then starts a trail downward, leaving little nips and sucking the water droplets from your skin.  He travels between your breasts and continues to move down until he’s kneeling in front of you, lips pressed to your abdomen.  He removes his mouth and tilts his head to rest his forehead against you instead.  His arms encircle your waist.

“I’m sorry I bit you.  And I’m sorry I scared you,” he apologizes, his words ghosting across your skin.

Your eyes turn soft as you look down at him, fingers running through his hair.  “It’s okay.” You assure him.  “Just maybe, try giving a girl some warning next time?  You’ve got my phone number for a reason, Bucky,” you give him a lopsided smile, trying to make light of the situation.

He chuckles lightly, smile pressed to your skin.  “Alright.” He releases a surprised grunt when your fingers fist in his hair and you yank his head back.

You meet his gaze with a stern glare.  “And  _don’t_  ever lie to me again by telling me you’re going to work late when  _really_  you’re going to go beat up a vampire.”  Speaking about phones had reminded you of the text he sent earlier.

He winces a little, smiling sheepishly.  “Right. M’sorry about that, too.”

You scratch soothingly at the area you’d just tugged on.  “No more lies, James.  And maybe we should go over the rest of your… skill set, so I don’t get any more late-night surprises.”

“No more lies.  But I think, we’ve pretty much covered everything after tonight,” he assures you, moving to stand once more.

“Kinda puts a whole new meaning to  _Sexual Healing_ ,” you laugh, placing your hands on his chest when he pulls you close once more.

He chuckles with you.  “Not really.  Marvin Gaye was an incubus, too.”

You look up at him in shock. “No way!”

He grins.  “Didn’t I just promise not to lie to you?”

Looking into his eyes, you realize that he’s completely serious.  “Holy shit…” you comment, this revelation nearly as shocking as everything else tonight.  “So, is  _Let’s Get It On_ , like your national anthem?”

Bucky laughs, shaking his head at you.  “Incubi aren’t of one nation.  Didn’t we already go over this, or did you forget that I’m Romanian?”

“I didn’t forget.  Are there other famous incubi in history?” you ask curiously.

He smiles down at you.  “Darling, we’d be up all night if we went there and you need you rest.”

You frown when he doesn’t indulge your curiosity.  “I don’t need rest.  I feel fine.”

His fingers curl a few wet strands of hair back behind your ear.  “I took a lot of your energy.  You’ll begin to feel the effects soon, and then you’ll be out for the rest of the night.”

His words make you frown even more.  “But I started a load of laundry downstairs.”

He gives you a perplexed look. “Why on earth would you do that?”

“Because your blood was all over my sheets and I didn’t want them to stain,” you tell him matter-of-factly.

He releases a small sigh.  “Alright.  After we finish our shower, I’ll put you to bed, then I’ll deal with your laundry.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you object, shaking your head.

“It’s the least I can do after everything tonight,” he responds.  “Now… I don’t think I’ve given you a proper kiss, tonight.  And I really think I should remedy that before you fall asleep on me.”

A slow smile spreads across your lips as his head tilts down ever so slightly.  “I have no objections to that.”

He smiles back.  “Good.”  His lips slant over yours.  You kiss him back, hands curling into the hair at his nape.  Although he’s pretty spot on with his timing when just after a few short minutes, your movements grow sluggish and it becomes increasingly more difficult to keep your eyes open.

“Okay, I’m tired now,” you inform him.

He quickly shuts off the water and lifts you out of the shower.  You feel the bathmat beneath your feet as Bucky throws a towel over your shoulders. He’s just about finished drying you off when you crumple forward against his chest.  He laughs quietly, catching you and lifting your limp body into his arms. You’re completely out of it.

He walks out of the bathroom, pausing when he realizes there aren’t any sheets on the bed.  He lays you on the bare mattress, still wrapped in your towel, before moving to grab the blanket that rests on the chair in the corner of your bedroom.  He exchanges the towel for the blanket, making sure it’s wrapped securely around you, so you won’t get cold.  He uses your towel to dry himself off and then hooks it securely around his waist as he leaves your apartment to locate the laundry room.

It’s not that difficult to find, and lucky enough, it’s time to move your sheets into the dryer.  Once that’s done, he brings the bundle back up to your room.  You’re still completely dead to the world, but he treats you like glass as he moves you temporarily to the chair.  He gets your sheets back onto the bed, pleased to see that any evidence of his blood has washed out; though, he honestly wouldn’t have minded buying you a new set as compensation anyway.

Once the bed is ready, he moves you back and quickly slides in next to you.  His arms curl around your waist, pulling you against his chest. Pushing your hair to the side, his eyes once again land on the mark left by his teeth.  It’s not common for incubi to mark their ‘territory’, as they typically didn’t stay with just  _one_  partner.  But Bucky felt oddly proud that right now you bore his mark.  It would fade with time, but at least for now, anyone that saw it would know that you were taken.  That you were  _his._   And he found that he enjoyed that feeling.   _Very much._


	6. Chapter 6

“How are you feeling?” Bucky’s soft voice fills your head as you begin to stir awake.

You release a tired moan, turning around to face him so you can bury your face into his neck.  “Hungry,” you respond with a sigh.

Bucky smiles.  That’s your usual response the morning after a large transference.  “Want me to make you something?”

You throw your arm over his chest and nudge your knee between his legs.  “Mm… no.  You’re my heat source.”

He chuckles quietly.  “Is that all I am to you?”

“At the moment,” you respond, though you’re sure he can feel your smile against his skin and it’s giving you away.

His arm tightens around your waist to pull you in closer, his head turning to brush his lips against your forehead.  “Minx.”

You laugh lightly, slowly beginning to blink open your eyes.  “And how are  _you_ feeling?” you ask.  Your hands travels down the length of his chest, pushing the sheets back.  Looking down, you can see that all that’s left of the wound on his side is a light scar. Your fingers trace over the faded mark.

“I’m alright,” Bucky assures you. “The energy transference did what it was supposed to.  Thank you, for your help, Lumina.”

You lift your gaze up to meet his, your lips drawn into a frown.  “Bucky what the hell were you thinking?”

He doesn’t like the look you give him; disappointment mixed with confusion and concern.  He’s not accustomed to feeling guilty over his actions. “In my defense, I didn’t  _plan_  to get into a fight with him.”

You raise a brow, looking at him doubtfully.

“I’m serious,” he tells you. “I went to tell him that you were under my protection and he wasn’t to go near you.  He obviously didn’t take too well to being ordered around.  He said that he could smell my scent all over you and that he knew exactly what was going on between us.  He tried to convince me that you were just using me to get intel on our kind.  That SHIELD has just stooped to a new low by whoring out their operatives.  I got so fucking pissed, I punched him.  Ended up breaking his nose and it kind of just went downhill from there.”

You release a soft sigh. Reaching your hand up, you run your fingers through his hair before your hand comes around to cup his jaw.  “Well, thank you for defending me.  But God, Bucky, I hated seeing you like that.”

His eyes turn sad, clouded with guilt.  “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” you whisper soothingly. You lift yourself up slightly, just enough to connect your lips to his.  You kiss him slowly and with compassion, to show him that you forgive him for his reckless actions.

His arms tighten around you moments before he’s rolling you onto your back.  “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Lumina.  I was scared that I had ruined it all, last night,” he mutters against your lips.

Your hands run across the plains of his back, feeling the ridges of muscles beneath your fingertips.  “You didn’t ruin anything.  Just try to keep it from happening again, maybe?”

His cerulean gaze locks with yours.  “I don’t know if that’s a promise I can entirely keep.  I  _will_  defend you from anyone that’s a threat.  When word gets out about us and our relationship, there will be those that won’t understand it,” he warns.

You look up at him in slight shock.  “So, we  _are_  in a relationship?” you question.  This was the first time that word has really come up.

His brow furrows in confusion. “Yes, of course.  Did you not think we were?”

Your cheeks flush a little. “Well it’s just that we never discussed it…”

He frowns, “I thought it was implied… Is that not what you want?”

“No! No, it  _is_.  It definitely is,” you reassure, placing your hands on his shoulders.

His gaze flickers between yours. “Then we are in agreement?”

You release a soft giggle, your hands moving up his neck to frame his cheeks.  “We’re in a relationship,” you declare.

A small smile quirks his lips upward.  “Yes, we are.”

You pull his face down to yours. However, the moment your lips touch, a loud rumble sounds from the center of your body.  The two of you pause your movements before Bucky bursts into laughter.  Your face feels like the sun when a second growl emits from your stomach.

Bucky pulls back, a wide grin on his lips.  “I should make a breakfast that will tame that beast.”

“Oh my God,” you breathe, covering your face with your hands to hide your embarrassment.

You feel his lips place a sweet kiss just below your navel.  “It’s okay, Lumina.  With how fast your body processes energy, it’s understandable that you’d need sustenance  _as well as_  sleep.”

You groan loudly.  “But we were having a moment…” you whine.

He chuckles lightly. Pulling your hands from your face, he places a chaste kiss to your lips.  “And we will have many more, I have no doubt.”

Admittedly, you like the sound of that.   _A lot_.

The two of you shuffle out from beneath the covers.  Once you’re standing, you take a second glance at your bed.  “I just realized that you actually finished my laundry  _and_  you made the bed.”

He looks at you confused, “I said I would…”

“You said you’d do my laundry. You didn’t have to make the bed too.”

His arm curls around your waist, tucking your body into his side.  “I wasn’t going to let you sleep on a bare mattress.”

You place a hand against his chest, smiling up at him.  “You know, for a demon, you’re awfully considerate.”

He grins, “Only where you are concerned.”

With a light laugh, you lead him to your dresser.  You’ve still got his red Henley and basketball shorts from your first night together.  You hand him the shorts and keep the shirt for yourself.  With your hands linked, you pull him out of your room and to the small corner that constitutes as your kitchen.

“What are you in the mood for, Lumina?”  Bucky asks you.

You send him a sweet smile. “You don’t have to cook for me. We’re in my apartment.”

He pins your body between his and the counter.  “Doesn’t change the fact that I still  _want_  to.”

You shake your head in amusement. He always gets his way. “Alright.  You make pancakes and I’ll make the coffee?” you offer.

“Fair enough,” he agrees, releasing you from his grasp.

You pull down the ingredients that he’ll need from the cupboards while he rummages through your refrigerator. With the two of you working together in your tiny kitchen, hips bumping occasionally as you try to move around each other, it feels oddly domestic.  Bucky finds it difficult to resist the urge to touch you, especially when his shirt rides up a little when you reach for things on the higher shelves.

You feel his chest against your back as you settle yourself in front of your coffee machine.  His head dips low, hot breath against your neck as his lips caress the shell of your ear.  “You’re making it hard to resist fucking you against the counter top,” he whispers darkly.

“I’m not even  _doing_  anything!” you whisper back with a laugh.

“Y/N?”

The two of you pull away from each other at the sound of Wanda’s voice.  Your cheeks flush in embarrassment, you  _may_ have forgotten for a moment that you had a roommate.

“Wanda!  Hey, um…  Sorry, Bucky kinda of showed up late last night.”

Her eyes remain locked on his form for a long moment before eventually flickering to yours.  “Can I talk to you for a minute?” she asks, jerking her head toward her room.

You frown slightly, “Uh, sure.” You glance at Bucky, muttering a quiet, “Be right back.”

He nods, watching you and Wanda disappear into her room.

“What’s going on?” you ask her as you step through the threshold of her room.

“Do you have  _any_  idea who that is?!” Wanda whispers harshly as soon as he door is closed.  “That’s James Buchanan Barnes!”

Your gaze narrows at her, “How do you know that?”  You’ve only ever referred to him as Bucky around her.

Your question seems to throw her off for a second, but she recovers quickly.  “He’s a famous architect.  But a notorious womanizer.  Y/N, what are you doing with him?”

“He’s not like that with me,” you try to tell her.

“And how long do you think that will last?  Men like him don’t  _do_  relationships.”

You cross your arms over your chest defensively.  “Maybe he’s changed.  People  _can_  change, you know.”

She shakes her head.  “Not people like  _that_.  It’s not in his nature.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you narrow your gaze in suspicion.  Was there a chance that Wanda  _knew_  what he was?

“Rich and handsome men like that? They don’t settle.”

You wince, her words actually cutting into you.  “Oh, so because I’m not some rich bimbo, him being with me means that he’s settling?”

Wanda sighs.  “That’s not what I meant-”

“He cares about me.  Our relationship has deeper meaning than you realize.”

She scoffs, shaking her head patronizingly at you.  “You are living in a dream if that’s what you actually believe.”

You frown.  “How can you say that?”

Reaching out, Wanda clasps your hands with hers, desperately trying to get you to see reason.  “Y/N, he is a dangerously powerful man in this city. One you should  _not_  be associating with.  Is he  _forcing_  you to be with him?” she asks.

You quickly rip your hands out of her grasp like her touch burns, “What?!   _No_.  What is wrong with you, Wanda?  You don’t even know him!”

“I know his  _type_.  Y/N, if you stay with him, you’ll only get hurt.”

You shake your head at the person you thought was supposed to be your best friend.  “Well then, I guess it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”  You turn on your heel and walk back out of her room, ignoring her calls after you.

“Everything alright?” Bucky asks as you approach, his features softening when he sees how upset you are.

“Can we go to your place?” you ask quietly, your voice wavering.

He glances at something over your shoulder, presumably Wanda, before his gaze settles back on you. “Sure.  My car is out front.”

You avoid looking over to Wanda’s door as you pull Bucky back to your room.  You slip out of his shirt, and hand it over to him, considering the clothes he came in are ripped to shreds on your bathroom floor.  While he moves to get his wallet and keys from the discarded clothing, you change into a pair of shorts and a loose shirt.  You hunt around for your phone, finding it on your nightstand, you tuck it into the back pocket of your shorts.

When you’re both ready to go, you lead Bucky back out and straight to the front door.

“Y/N, please,” Wanda tries one last time.

Your hand grasps the knob of the door.  “I’ll see you later, Wanda.”  And that’s how you leave it.

Bucky tucks your body into his side as you both step into the elevator.  The drive to his apartment is silent.  He wants to give you time to process your thoughts and emotions before he asks what happened.  However, as the two of you step out of his private elevator, you find that there’s an unexpected redheaded guest awaiting your arrival.

She arches a perfect brow, her gaze sharp as it washes over the two of you.  “I figured you went to her,” her voice drips with cynicism.

James releases a frustrated sigh, “Not now, Talia.  We’ve had a rough morning.”

She crosses her arms over her chest.  “And a rough night, too.  From what I hear.”

“How do you know about that?” you ask with a slight frown.

She narrows her gaze at you. “An incubus and a vampire get into a fight over a descendent?  Things like that don’t happen every day and news travels fast.”  Her gaze slips back to Bucky.  “Anyway, I just came here to make sure you’d recovered from your stupidity. And I guess you have, at least physically.  So, I’ll be on my way.”

She begins to turn away when you take a step forward.  “Talia, wait.”

She pauses, looking at you expectantly.

“I know I don’t have any right to, but I have a favor to ask of you.”

She stares at you blankly for a moment.  “You’re right.  You don’t.”

You gape when she turns to leave again.

“Talia.  Behave.” Bucky warns.  “It’s a favor to me, too.”

She sighs in annoyance, turning back to face the both of you.  “What?”

You hesitate a moment, this was seeming less and less like a viable option…  “Spending so much time with Bucky has begun to trigger my powers,” you explain.  “I need someone to help teach me how to control them.”

“What makes you think I can do anything about it?” she asks with a raised brow.

You pause, not sure how to answer that.  When you glance back at Bucky, she catches on.

“How much have you told her?” she glares at the man she calls her brother.

Bucky sighs, running a hand through his hair.  “Talia, she’s not like the others, I promise.”

She turns her glare back to you. “Have you ever hurt him?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “What?  No.  Never!”

Bucky’s hands reach for your waist, pulling you back against his chest.  “Tony attacked her two nights ago.  That’s when her powers came out.”

Talia looks at you both with a look of realization.  “So then that’s why  _you_  went after him last night.”

Bucky nods.

She juts her hip out, placing a hand on it.  “You know, you’ve always been an idiot, but you’ve never been an  _impulsive_  idiot until she came along.”

Bucky rolls his eyes.  “Are you going to help us, or not?”

She releases a long sigh.  “Fine.  I’ll get the gym set up.  Meet me down there in an hour.”

You look at her in shock.  “Wait.  We’re starting today?”

She gives you an impatient look. “Do you want to control your powers or not?”

You gulp.  “Yes…”

“Then be down there in an hour.” Leaving nothing else up for discussion, Talia turns and leaves.

You sigh again.  “Are you sure this a good idea?”

Bucky’s sigh mimics yours.  “It’s the only one we’ve got.”  His hand reaches for yours before he gently tugs you down the hall.  “Come on. We still need to get some food in you.”

The one hour time slot gives Bucky just enough time to make the pancakes you had requested.  The two of you eat together, Bucky doing his best to try to keep your mind distracted, but his efforts are mostly in vain.  When it’s time, Bucky takes you down a set of stairs you didn’t even realize were in his apartment.

He takes you to a room that you quickly realize must be the gym.  Different types of exercise equipment fill about half of the room.  There’s a treadmill, a cycling machine, and a few different weight machines.  To the left is open floor space covered in tumbling mats.  That’s where Talia stands.  You approach cautiously.

“I’ve had a mage alter the magic in this room for the next three hours.  It’ll allow you to use your powers in here, but  _only_  in here.”

You nod in understanding, “Okay.”

“First off.  Explain to me what exactly happened between you and Tony. How did you use your powers, what were you thinking about at the time?”

You do your best to be as detailed in your explanation, not really knowing if the smallest aspect will really be of importance.  Talia listens to your story, nodding occasionally, and for once not having any snarky remarks.

“Alright.  We’re going to start with getting your translocation worked out.  Stand over here,” she instructs.

You move to the center of the mats.

“Get yourself to that corner of the room.”  She points toward the far corner.

You frown at her.  “How?”

“Figure it out.”

Well that’s certainly helpful. Not.

You shoot Bucky an exasperated look.  He nods encouragingly.  “You’ve done it before, Lumina.  Just try it.”

You release a long huff, turning to face the corner.  You stare at it a long moment, not entire sure  _what_  you are supposed to be doing.

“Come on.  You can physically  _see_  your destination, this should be easy,” Talia goads.

You glare at her in annoyance. “I’m trying.”

“No.  You’re  _thinking_.  And that’s the problem.”

“Well what the hell  _else_  am I supposed to do?!” you cry out.  You haven’t even started your training and you’re already fed up with her.

The feelings seem to be reciprocated.  “When I tell you to get yourself to that corner, what do you imagine in your head?”

You shrug your shoulders.  “I don’t know… Walking over there?”

“Stop that,” she orders.

You want to throw your hands up in frustration, or maybe yank on her flaming hair.

She continues, “You can’t imagine  _how_  you are going to get there. You have to concentrate on already  _being there_.”

You bite back a scathing retort, not taking kindly to her tone.  She’s talking to you as if you’re an idiot.  You gaze focuses back on the corner.  But the more you stare, and the longer it doesn’t work, the more you seem to concentrate on the  _how_.

“This is ridiculous!  How can I not think about  _how_  to get there when I don’t even  _know_  how?!”

“Staring all day at the corner isn’t going to get you there.”  She ignores your question.  “Close your eyes and imagine yourself standing over there.”

You huff, but close your eyes obediently.  You try to picture the corner in your mind and once you’ve got it, you try to plant yourself in that image.  Still, nothing seems to happen.  You feel like you’re missing something, that there’s something else she hasn’t told you. Honestly, she’s probably just doing this to make fun of you.  She hate’s you, why in the hell would you think she’d actually  _try_  to help.

She didn’t want you here. And after the past couple of days, you didn’t really want to be here either.  At least, not in the gym with Talia.  You wanted to be somewhere relaxing, somewhere you wouldn’t have to worry about crazy vampires and angry succubi.

Out of nowhere, you feel that sensation of your stomach dropping.  Like the floor has completely vanished and you’re falling.  But all too suddenly, the floor is solid once more. You release a stuttering gasp, the wind on your face startling you.  Your eyes snap open when you hear the crashing of waves.

You look around in confusion, because right now… you’re at the beach.

Your knees give out and you fall forward onto the sand.  Your fingers sink into the soft grains.  You would have thought you were imagining everything if it didn’t feel so real.  How the hell did you end up here?!

Your mind is still trying to wrap around what just happened when you feel buzzing against your ass.  It takes you a moment to realize your ringtone is playing out as well.  You dust the sand off your hands before reaching to pull your phone out of your back pocket.  Bucky’s name is written at the top of the screen.

You swipe to answer.  “…Hey, Bucky.”

“Where’d you go?” he asks.

“Uh…” you look around once more, still not entirely believing that this is where you are.  “The beach,” you tell him.

He’s quiet for a moment before he laughs.  You can perfectly imagine the way he chuckles as he shakes his head at you.  “How did you manage to get yourself there?”

“I don’t know…”  you didn’t really want to admit to him that you’d been thinking about being anywhere  _but_  the gym in his apartment.

You can hear the amusement in his voice when he responds.  “Well try to figure out how to get yourself back here.  I’d rather not have to drive two and a half hours to come get you.”

You release a groan.  “What if I can’t?”

“You  _can_ , Lumina.  Have faith. I know you can do this.”

You wish you had as much faith in yourself as he seemed to have in you.  You release a low sigh.  “Okay, I’ll try.”

“The wards will still prevent you from getting directly into the building, so just try to get yourself close and then come up the main elevator.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you soon,” he tells you.

You hum noncommittally, “Probably not as soon as you think.”

He laughs.  “Just have faith,” he repeats.

The two of you hang up.  You push yourself up until you’re standing once again, muttering quietly about how pointless this all was.  Maybe you didn’t really  _need_ to know about your powers.  Didn’t  _not_  knowing how to use them mean that you’d be less likely too?

You try to shake those thoughts out of your head.  You were more than a two-hour drive away from home.  It’s not like you could really walk or take an Uber back.  This was your only option.  Closing your eyes, you picture Bucky’s building in your head.

The jump seems to happen a lot quicker this time around.  So much so, that it catches you off guard.  You release a yelp, stumbling forward and then falling head first into the decorative bushes that line the front of Bucky’s building.  You struggle to right yourself, feeling the tiny branches cling to your shirt and catch in your hair.

“Need some help?” you hear a gentle voice ask from behind you, clearly trying to hold back some amusement.

“Uh, yes please,” you admit, your face blushing brighter than Talia’s hair.

You feel a set of large hands against your hips before your body is lifted out of the bushes.  The man seems to be able to hold your weight with minimal effort as he sets you on your feet.  “How’d you manage to end up like that?” he asks you.

“Just clumsy, I guess,” you try to laugh it off, turning to face the kind stranger.  Your breath catches in your throat when your eyes meet.

He’s  _gorgeous_.  Kind eyes, the shade of the sky on a clear spring afternoon, lips the color of a dusty rose, and hair, a halo of gold framing the crown of his head.  He smiles at you sweetly and it’s like seeing the sunrise for the first time in your life.  “Well then, I guess you should be a little more careful.”

You’re not sure  _how_ , but your cheeks seem to burn even hotter.  “I’ll certainly try.  Thank you for your help though.”

He grins charmingly.  “It was my pleasure.”

You release an awkward laugh, starting to move around him to head for the door.  Your fingers have just barely brushed the bar to pull it open when he calls out to you.

“Are you sure you want to go in there?” he questions.

You look at him with confusion and curiosity.  “I- yes? I’m visiting my boyfriend.”  You don’t really know why you feel the need to explain yourself.

The man’s face goes blank for a moment, it’s so brief you almost think you imagined it when his charming smile is back on his lips.  “Ah, well then I won’t keep you.  Have a good day, ma’am.”

You raise an eyebrow and nod before turning to enter the building.  You don’t think anyone’s ever called you  _ma’am_  before.

Unbeknownst to you, the man continues to observe you through the glass windows of the lobby.  He watches with a frown as you greet the man behind the concierge desk before you make your way to the back elevators.  Once the elevator doors have closed, the man vanishes from sight.


	7. Chapter 7

You end up spending the next several weeks at Bucky’s.  He takes you to work every morning and picks you up in the afternoon.  Once back at the apartment, the two of you have dinner together before you continue your training with Talia.  You’re beginning to think that the redhead might be warming up to you.  Her tone of voice isn’t nearly as harsh or cold as it used to be and she’s a little more understanding when you don’t get your powers to work just right.

It turns out, translocation was actually  _easier_  to master than light manipulation.  You could now translocate to just about any place you’d already been.  And even better, you’d discovered that you could at least translocate out of the apartment without having to remove any of the wards.  The spells were pretty much put in place to keep descendants from  _entering_ , and because of that, there was no need to put a spell up to keep one from  _leaving_.

You and Talia are currently sitting on the gym floor and she’s trying to talk you through creating a ball of light.  So far all you’ve been able to do were small flashes of light, like when you’d tried to stop Tony.  You can’t seem to get something a little more permanent to work.

You’ve got your eyes closed, hands held out slightly, palms up in a cradling pose as you try to imagine yourself holding the ball of light.  You can feel the energy pulsing just beneath your fingertips but you can’t seem to push it out any farther.  Your brow furrows.

Your concentration breaks when a buzz cuts through the stillness of the room.  You open your eyes, both you and Talia turning to the source. Bucky shifts from his position on a bench near the wall where he’d been observing your training.

“Really Buck?” Talia asks in annoyance as he pulls his phone from his back pocket.

He checks the screen before moving to answer it.  “Sorry, it’s work,” he tells you both.  He lifts the phone to his ear while he stands.  “Hey.”  He makes his way out of the room, not wanting his conversation to disturb either of you.

“Maybe we should call it a night,” Talia suggests.

You look at her curiously. She’s  _never_  ended a training session early.  “Why are you being so nice now?”

She smirks in amusement. “Would you rather I not?”

“No,” you respond honestly.

Her smirk transitions to something a little more pleasant as her gaze falls back to the door Bucky just exited through.  “I’ve never seen him so happy.  I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you’re good for him.”

You take a moment to appreciate the compliment.  Especially since it’s coming from  _her_. “Do you still think I’m like  _them_?” you question cautiously.

Her gaze moves back to you. The sharpness in her eyes remains as she observes you for a long moment.  But then she sighs and her features soften.  “No.  I guess the war between descendants and demons isn’t so inherently ingrained into you.” Though her words should make you feel better, you can’t help but notice her eyes turning a little sad.

“Is something wrong with that?”

She shakes her head slowly. “James told you about my fiancée, right?”

You look at her with realization as you begin to understand where she’s coming from.  You nod in response.

Her gaze drops to the floor. “If the hatred of demons was so deeply rooted into your kind it would be more understandable why he just left.  It would have been something he couldn’t have helped.  But to know that a relationship  _can_  work between the two of us, I guess it hurts to know that he  _chose_  to give up on it.”

“I’m so sorry, Talia.”

“It’s not your fault,” she shakes her head.  “It’s probably because James got to you before SHIELD did.”

“Is that why you know so much about descendant powers?  Because your fiancé worked for SHIELD?”

She nods.  “I tried to help him with the emergence of his powers.  He was a late bloomer.  I helped him practice in our apartment, however we hadn’t set up any protection wards or anything.  With the amount of his energy that had been expelled as we worked on things, it attracted an arachnae.  He hadn’t been strong enough to destroy it, and it ended up biting me.”  She lifts the bottom edge of her shirt, showing you the scar left behind from the spider bite.  Arachnae were bigger than tarantulas and their pincers could do a lot of damage.  You wince at her scar.  It had to have been bad to be left behind after her turning.

“In his moment of desperation, my fiancé turned to James for help.  James had tried to warn him of the consequences, but when I woke up as a demon, my fiancé was gone and I haven’t seen him since.”

“That’s awful.”

She shrugs, “I’m just lucky James agreed to the blood bond in the first place.  Doing so doesn’t come without its consequences for him either.”

“What do you mean?” you turn your head curiously.

“The blood transfer is a two-way street.  For every drop of demonic blood that entered into me, my human blood entered him.  Any time a demon turns a human, they themselves become more human.  That’s why turnings don’t happen very often.  There’s not much to be gained when it’s easier to create new demons by just impregnating a human.”

“I see…”

Talia scoffs a light laugh, “I do believe I’m beginning to understand why James divulges so much information to you.  You’re easy to talk to.”

You smile kindly back, glad to have changed her thoughts about you.

The two of you look over when Bucky comes back into the room.  His fingers tap against his phone screen and there’s a slight frown on his face.

“Everything alright?” you question.  You and Talia move to stand up.

His gaze lifts to yours.  “I have to leave on a business trip tomorrow. They want me to scout out a potential location for the new casino.”

“But tomorrow’s Sunday,” your lips fall into a frown that matches his.

His sighs quietly, “I know. Usually they give me more of a warning. But I guess there’s some competition for the location, so they want me to get there as soon as possible.”  He moves over to you, gently resting his hands on your hips.

Your fingers reach out to curl around his shirt.  “How long will you be gone?”

“Only a couple days, hopefully,” his head leans down to brush a kiss to your forehead.  “How is training going?” he asks the two of you.

“I think we’re going to call it for tonight.  We can work on it some more tomorrow,” Talia informs him before she steps away.

“Thank you, Talia,” you call after her, you voice soft and meaningful.  You’re happy that she’s finally begun to open up to you.

She pauses at the door, giving you a small smile.  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

After she’s left, you meet Bucky’s curious gaze.  “Did I miss something?” he asks in confusion.

You laugh.  “We had a bonding moment.”

His lips quirk into a small smile. “I’m sorry I missed it.”

The two of you make your way upstairs and to the bedroom.  You fall asleep wrapped in each other’s arms, like you have every night for the last several weeks.

Bucky has to leave early the next morning.  You share lazy kisses and gentle caresses until the last possible moment before he has to pack up and head out.  You’d always known how big his apartment was, but you’d never really  _noticed_ it until he was gone.  You’re relieved when Talia shows up.

She can tell how off you are without Bucky there. So instead of making you train, she decides to just spend the day together, talking and getting to know each other more.  You’re grateful for the distraction.

Bucky calls you after he checks into his hotel.  He’s got a couple meetings for the afternoon and then he’ll have to be up early the next morning to tour the location.

You reluctantly crawl into his bed later that night.  The sheets smell like him, but it’s not enough to settle you down.  This is the first time in a while that the two of you have slept away from each other.  You miss his body heat and the security you always feel when wrapped in his arms.

After spending nearly two hours just tossing and turning, you release a groan of annoyance and get back up. You pace around for a bit, hoping to tire yourself out a little.  It doesn’t work.

You bite your bottom lip.  You know you’re not getting any sleep tonight if you’re going to have to sleep alone.  You’re completely working off a hunch when you find yourself closing your eyes. You’d become so much better at translocation, but to try to get to a  _person_  instead of a place… you didn’t know if it was even possible.

You take a moment to concentrate, trying to focus everything you have on Bucky.  The way he smells, the sound of his voice, the heat that always seems to come off of him in waves.  You feel that tightening in your stomach, a feeling you’ve grown more used to each time you do this.

Opening your eyes, you find yourself in a hotel room.  There’s a brief moment of panic when you think that maybe you could have translocated to the wrong place.  But then your gaze lands on the bag you’d watched him pack earlier that morning and you breathe a sigh of relief.

You then hear that the shower is running.  Walking over, you cautiously open the door.  “Bucky?” you call out.

“Y/N?” the shower curtain opens to reveal Bucky’s surprised face.

You give him a small bashful smile.  “I couldn’t sleep.”  Your hands wring out the bottom of the shirt you wear, another one of his.

His eyes soften.  “Care to join me?” he offers.

You nod, pulling his shirt off and crawling into the tub.  He pulls your body against his chest, kissing the top of your hair.  You rest your cheek against him, listening to his steady heartbeat.

“How was your meeting?” you ask, your hands running over his back.

“Boring,” he chuckles quietly. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you. How’d training go?”

“Talia gave me the day off.”

“Really?” he looks down at you with a raised brow.

You smile up at him, “Yeah. We just talked.”

“That sounds like trouble,” he states, but with the way he smiles, you know he’s happy that the two of you are getting along.

You hum in agreement, your eyes falling shut.

“How did you manage to translocate here?” he asks you, his fingers skimming up and down the length of your back.

You shrug a shoulder, “I focused on you.”

He’s silent for a moment, “I’ve never heard of someone doing that.”

You open your eyes and lift your head up to meet his gaze once more.  “I’m just glad it worked.”

The corner of his mouth tilts up. “Me too.”  His hands glide across your skin until he’s cradling your jaw, holding you in place to press his mouth to yours.

You moan happily, one hand holding the back of his neck as you kiss him back eagerly.  His lips can still ignite that fire inside you, no matter how many times you both share a kiss.  If anything, it feels even better now than it had the first time because now there was an emotional connection between the two of you.

Bending your knee, you rub the inside of your calf against his leg, moving up until your knee is pressed to his hip.  One of his hands leaves your face to pin your knee in place.  You can feel him beginning to harden against you.

“Are you trying to start something, Lumina?” Bucky asks against your lips.

“Maybe,” you tease moments before your teeth sink into his lower lip.

A deep growl makes his chest vibrate against yours, a pool of slick forming between your thighs in reaction. He pulls back, quickly shutting off the water and pushing open the curtain.  With his hands against the back of your thighs, he lifts your body into his arms and steps out.  Ignoring the towels, he walks the two of you, still dripping wet, to the bedroom.

He lays your body out on the mattress, keeping his tucked against you as close as possible as he does so. You feel the muscles in his shoulders shift as he moves above you, your gaze clashing with his.

“Bucky, can I tell you something?” you ask, your voice quiet.

Registering the slight change in you, he looks at you with concern.  “Is it something bad?”

You shake your head, hands moving across his shoulders and up his neck to cradle the underside of his jaw. “No.  Well at least I hope not…”

“What is it?”

“I…” you voice trails off as you try to figure out how to say what you want to.  “I know what you said before… about love being an emotion too complicated for you to understand.  And I guess I just wanted you to know that I’m okay with it.  Even if you can’t  _love_  me, I know that you care.  And what we have… it  _is_ special and it means so much to me.  As long as you think you can find happiness with our relationship, that will be enough for me.  Because even if it’s something you don’t think you can feel, it  _is_  something that  _I_  feel.”

His eyes widen ever so slightly. “You do?”

A sincere smile lifts your lips. “Yes.  I love you, James.”

The words have barely had a second to linger in the air before his lips are on yours. You whimper into his mouth, your fingers running through the wet strands of his hair.  His kiss is all the tenderness you could have ever dreamed of after giving such a declaration.  He’s so incredibly sweet and gentle, and yet the heat between the two of you seems to burn even hotter.  His body lowers over yours, bare flesh pressed close until the space between the two of you becomes nonexistent.

You can feel the weight of him nestled between your thighs.  Rocking his hips forward, he glides his length over your slick folds.  Your legs curl around the back of his thighs, simultaneously opening yourself up to him and begging him to fill you.

The fingertips on his right hand glide down the length of your body before moving to his cock.  His gives himself a few strokes, spreading your slick over his length.  Holding his base, he lines himself up and pushes into you.

Your moans are muffled by his mouth, feeling the brush of his skin  _everywhere_ with each shift of your bodies.  That stretch between your thighs as your body accommodates him always feels  _so good_.  You don’t ever quite realize how empty you feel without him until he’s buried to the hilt and you get that reminder of just how  _full_  he can make you.

“Oh Bucky…” you sigh, completely lost to the sensations of your bodies joining when his lips pull back just a hair’s breadth.

“Say it again,” he whispers to you, nose nuzzling yours.  You feel his fingers brushing over your forearm before he pulls your hand out of his hair to entwine your fingers.

“I love you,” you repeat, just as sincere as before.

You feel the shiver run up his spine, his stuttering breath fanning across your cheeks.  “My Lumina’s so good to me.”

Your hands remain linked, pressed into the mattress as he begins a gentle series of thrusts.  His movements are slow, lengthy, meant for you to feel every single inch of toned flesh move against your body.  It’s certainly different from how the two of you usually go at it, but it’s just as incredible.  This is more than just sex.  This is Bucky’s way of expressing his feelings.  He may not be able to convey his emotions aloud, but actions spoke louder than words, and you understood just fine.

Every time your hips meet you feel a jolt run up your spine, the slow movement allowing you to feel the full effect of each one.  You arch your hips up to meet him, feeling his pelvic bone grind against you.  He moves his bent knees forward a little, cradling you lower body against his thighs to give him a little more leverage with his thrusts.

You release a breathy moan, head tilting back into the pillows.  You feel his lips run across your jaw and down your neck, leaving little nips and sucks in his wake, each one feeling like the brush of a butterfly’s wing.  His fingers release yours, arm curling behind the small of your back to hold your body close to his.  You feel the tension in his back muscles when he uses that arm to lift your hips slightly, changing the angle to grind his head against your g-spot.

“ _James_!”

The slow movement is so tantalizing and teasing.  The extended brush of his cock against that sensitive spot turns your muscles to jelly. Add that to how sweet and gentle he’s being, you don’t know if you want to scream out or cry.

You feel lightheaded, or maybe just drunk off of the pleasure you feel.  Your body clenches eagerly around him, a warning of what’s coming.  Bucky grunts from deep in his chest, your fluttering walls nearly pushing him over the edge.

“Come on, Lumina,” he whispers words on encouragement against your skin, mixed between the peppered kisses.

“Bucky…”  A gasp of shock fills your lungs when your climax hits you suddenly.  The build-up had seemed gradual, but once it hit, you felt yourself soaring.  Your arms and legs tighten their grip around him, your shuddering allowing him to follow quickly after you.  Your bodies thrum in harmony, the pleasure easily flowing between the two of you.

You’re not sure if it’s sweat or shower water that makes your skin stick to his, but you don’t care either way. This man was yours and you belonged whole heartedly to him and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I love you so much, Bucky,” you whisper to him, between your heavy breaths.

He lifts his head from where it had been buried against your neck.  His eyes are so soft and warm, they’re practically molten.  “There will never be anyone else, Lumina.”

You smile brightly, arms wrapping around his neck to pull his face down to yours.

-

“Lumina,” Bucky’s low tenor pulls you out of your sleep.

You groan tiredly, burying your face deeper into your pillow.

He exhales in a laugh, the rush of air eliciting a shiver as it runs down your back.  “You need to wake up sweetheart.  You need to get back home.”

You feel his touch ghosting over your back, pulling even more shivers out of you.

You hum in disagreement.

You can feel the smile on his lips when he places a kiss to the back of your shoulder.  “You’ll be upset if you’re late to work.”

“I’ll call in sick.”

He chuckles.  “And what are you going to do all day?  Stay here in the room?”

“Mm, yes.”

“You’ll get bored after an hour.”

“Not if you’re here too,” you grin cheekily, keeping your eyes closed.

He pushes your messy hair out of your face, releasing a low hum.  “As appealing as the thought sounds, you know I can’t.”

Your lips turn into a pouty frown as you slowly blink your eyes open.  “You’re no fun.”

Your eyes meet his smiling face as he looks down at you with amusement.  “Good morning, Princess.”

You lift a hand to rub at your eyes, your mouth opening in a yawn.  “Morning…”

“Can you tell me again?” Bucky asks in a soft voice.

You look at him in confusion. “Tell you what?” your sleep addled brain still isn’t at full capacity.

“What you told me last night.”

The realization hits you and you smile.  Turning onto your back, you reach a hand up to cradle his jaw.  “I love you.”

He smiles back, his face the picture of bliss before he leans down for yet another kiss.  “I’ve found more happiness with you than I have in any other aspect of my life.”

The sincerity in his eyes makes your heart skip a beat.  “I’m glad,” you tell him with a happy smile.

“Do you think you could come back tonight?” Bucky asks.

You laugh lightly.  “Was already planning to.”

He grins crookedly.

The two of you share another short kiss before shuffling out of bed.  You move to the bathroom to get your shirt off the floor.  “Here,” you turn to Bucky’s voice after you’ve tugged his shirt into place.  He’s holding out a pair of shorts.

Your cheeks flush when you realize that getting back to the apartment meant you’d have to translocate  _outside_  the building.  “Right,” you laugh in embarrassment.  “I guess I didn’t really think that one through.”

He smiles, placing a kiss to your forehead.  “That’s alright.  I’ll see you tonight, Lumina.”

“Bye Bucky.”  After slipping into the shorts, and one last kiss, you translocate back to his apartment building.

You breathe out a sigh of happiness, unable to stop the giddy smile from stretching your lips.  Your gaze lifts upward, taking in the whole building, your eyes eventually reaching the glass windows you know conceal Bucky’s apartment.  You don’t think you’ve ever felt this happy in your whole life.

“Excuse me, ma’am?”

You turn to face the deep voice, your heart skipping a beat when you recognize the man from a few weeks ago. The one that helped to pull you out of the pushes.  “Uh, hi,” you smile awkwardly.

The charming smile that had been on his face the last time you met is nowhere to be seen now.  His lips are pulled into a serious frown, his eyes observing you cautiously.  “I’m going to need you to come with me.”


	8. Chapter 8

“I’m sorry, what?” you respond immediately, your lips falling into a frown to match the stranger’s.

“It’s not safe for you to be here. We need to go.  Now.”  He steps forward, reaching out for you.

You counter his movement by stepping back, eyeing him warily.  “What are you talking about?  I  _live_  here.”

He shakes his head.  “No, you don’t, Y/N.”

You feel your heart stop, the panic quickly settling in your stomach like spoiled milk.  “How do you know my name?  Who the hell are you?”

He sighs in irritation.  “My name is Steve Rogers.  I can explain on the way.  But we need to leave now while we still have time.”  He reaches out for you again.

Once more, you step out of his reach.  “I’m not going  _anywhere_  with you unless you tell me what this is about.”

His gaze narrows into a glare that seems out of place on his nearly perfect features.  “I didn’t want to do it this way, but if you’ll give me no choice…”

He lets the words hang in the air as your only warning before he darts forward.  He moves faster than you can even blink and before you know it, you’ve been hoisted up onto his shoulder.

“Wha-  _Hey_!” you scream in outrage.  “Let me go you asshole!”

Before you can struggle any further, you’re suddenly blinded by a burst of white.  It takes a moment of excessive blinking before you find out it’s not white light that clouds your vision, but  _feathers?!_   It then takes another second to realize that there are two, gloriously large wings now protruding from his back.  They seem endless when stretched out to their full length.  You stare in wonder for a brief moment, before they beat downward rapidly and you’re no longer touching the ground.

A startled scream leaves your lips, your stomach left on the concrete as the distance between yourself and the safety of earth increases.  Your previous struggling quickly transitions into desperately grabbing onto the man any possible way you can.

“Oh my god. Oh my god.   _Oh my god!_ ”

“The more you move, the more likely it becomes that I’m going to drop you,” Steve warns, the way you’re squirming to cling to him actually making it more difficult for him to hold onto you.

You go stiff as a board after that, heart hammering in your chest.  You try with all your might to steady your breathing.  You feel like passing out might not be a good idea either.

“Where are you taking me?” you ask when you’ve gained some semblance of control over yourself.

“Somewhere you’ll be safe.”

You’re grateful when he begins to descend somewhere just outside of the city limits.  His feet touch down in a clearing surrounded by trees.  He carefully lowers you onto your shaky legs and you have to refrain from dropping and kissing the ground.

You take a few steps back, your eyes not leaving his wings.  They’re huge, each one probably the length of a full-grown man, maybe longer.  The feathers ruffle slightly in the breeze, the two wings twitching ever so slightly as if they have minds of their own.

“So… are you my guardian angel or something?” you ask with thinly concealed sarcasm.

The man,  _Steve_ , snorts, crossing his arms over his chest. “No.”  With one last flutter and stretch, he folds his wings inward before they disappear from sight.

“So you-  You’re…”

“Nephilim,” he fills in for you.

You frown at him.  “I thought they didn’t exist anymore.”

“They don’t,” he confirms.

Your brow furrows.  “Then how..?’

“I’m a created Nephilim, not born.”

Your eyes widen in shock.  “ _Created_?” you repeat.  “But you can’t create a Nephilim.”

He raises a brow, “Do I need to show you my wings again?”

You shake your head slowly, still wrapping your head around this.  “Are there more like you?”

“No,” he tells you.  “There were supposed to be.  But in SHIELD’s experiments, I was the only one to survive.”

His words put you on high alert. “SHIELD?  Is that where you’re taking me?”

“Yes,” he confirms.

“No,” you slowly back away from him as you shake your head.  “I don’t want to go there.”

Steve mimics your movements, following you each step you take backward.  “That demon has done something to you.  We need to figure out what it is so we can fix you.”

You gape at him, clearly insulted. “Fix me?  There’s nothing w _rong_  with me!”

Steve brings his hands up in an effort to appease you.  “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but if you allow me to take you to SHIELD we can help you. That’s all I want to do.  We just want you to be safe, Y/N.”

“We?  Who’s we?”

Steve sighs hands dropping to his hips.  “SHIELD has been monitoring you since your father’s passing.  It wasn’t until a few years ago that we sent someone to keep a closer eye on you.  As soon as she realized how close you’d become with the demon, she sent for me to bring you in.”

You gape at him, unable to believe the lengths SHIELD has gone to invade your privacy.  It only takes a second to realize who he was talking about. “Wanda?!”  You place a hand to your stomach, stumbling back a few more steps. You feel like you’re going to throw up. “I… I thought she was my friend…” Her reaction upon seeing Bucky for the first time made a lot more sense now.  Thinking about it even more,  _she’s_  probably the enchantress in your building too.  You feel so betrayed.

“I have little doubt that she feels the same.  Wanda has difficulty keeping her emotions in check.  When she first called me, she was distraught that you’d left without letting her explain herself.  She just wants what’s best for you.  Like I do.”

You try your best to push your feelings of hurt and betrayal aside and glare openly at him.  “And you think that will be with SHIELD?  So I can be mind controlled into hating demons like the rest of you?”

“It’s not like that,” he argues. “Demons are inherently evil. Surely you must realize-”

“You’re wrong!” You cut him off, hands balling into fists at your sides.  “Bucky has treated me with more kindness than  _anyone_  I’ve ever met.”

He narrows his gaze, irritation lining his features.  “It’s a trick!  He’s only making you  _believe_  that he cares so he can take advantage of you!”

“You don’t know anything!”

He takes another ominous step toward you.  “On the contrary.  I know  _everything_.  He will take everything you love and he will  _destroy_  it.  It’s the only thing demons are good for.  He’s already broken your friendship with Wanda.”

“She did that herself when she spied on me!”  You counter his step again, staying as far out of reach as you can.  “This is exactly why I  _will_  not let you take me to SHIELD.  All this mindless hatred for demons… I will  _never_ be like you.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.”

You set your jaw with determination.  “Try and stop me.”  Closing your eyes, you picture Bucky’s hotel room in your mind.  Having been there once, it should be easier to get there again. After a few seconds, you frown when nothing happens.  You can feel the energy pulsing within you, so you haven’t  _lost_  the ability to jump, you just…  _can’t_.

“If you’re trying to translocate out of here, it won’t work.”

You open your eyes, looking at Steve in horror.  “What have you done to me?”

He crosses his arms over his chest again.  “Nothing. It’s just that we’re in a translocation circle.”

“A what?”  You look around again, but still all you see is the grassy clearing.

“The SHIELD facility is never in one place.  It’s constantly moving, which makes translocating there slightly difficult. In order to counteract the problem, translocation circles have been created in several locations throughout the world.  The energy signature in these areas have been enchanted to match with SHIELD’s. Therefore, SHIELD is the  _only_  place you can translocate to when you’re standing in one.”

You huff in frustration. “You can’t honestly believe I’d  _willingly_  translocate to that place?”

A dark look shadows Steve’s features.  “I guess it’s a good thing then that I’m powerful enough to translocate the two of us together.”

“What?!”

Again, he darts forward. You try to move away, but he reaches out, hand clamping around your wrist.  It’s barely a moment after your skins touch that you feel the ground drop from beneath you and you’re no longer in the clearing.

*

You gasp for breath upon coming out of the jump.  Traveling  _with_  someone felt incredibly strange, especially since it was against your will.  You feel unstable on your legs, like the first few times you’d ever translocated.

Lifting your gaze, you quickly take in your surroundings.  The wind is strong here, your hair whipping all around your face.  All you can see is blue in every direction.  It takes a moment for your brain to comprehend what’s happening, but then you see a cloud drift passed.

“We… We’re in the sky?” you begin to make your way to the edge, but a strong arm wraps around your waist and stops you.

“You probably don’t want to do that.  It’s a long way down.”  Steve pulls you back.  “Welcome to the Helicarrier.  Headquarters of SHIELD.”  He turns you around, so you’re facing away from the edge and you now realize you’re standing on a gigantic airship.

“Oh my god,” you breathe. The ship seems to stretch for eons, you don’t even understand how something so massive can even  _fly_.

Groups of descendants are scattered around the upper deck.  Some enjoy the fresh air and sunshine while on their break.  Others are in training, either running in coordinated groups or sparring with each other.

You feel Steve’s hand against your back before he begins to guide you inside.  It seems strangely quiet once you’ve stepped through the door, away from the roaring wind.  You and Steve walk down the halls in silence.  Each step you take only makes the foreboding feeling inside you grow even more.  You notice that the two of you are heading toward a set of elevators.

The doors open before you reach them and an older man steps out.

Steve comes to a stop. “Director Pierce,” he greets formally.

“Rogers,” the man nods his head once before his eyes land on you.  “I see our plan to send Barnes away was successful.”

Your heart skips a beat, eyes widening.  “What?” your voice comes out hoarse, throat going dry.

The man gives you a condescending look.  “You didn’t really think his sudden business trip was an accident, did you?”

Steve’s hand against your back moves slightly, grabbing your attention.  “After you’d moved in with him you were either at work where an interaction would be too public or you were  _with_  him.  We had to separate you two somehow,” he tries to explain it gently, but it still makes you sick.

They really  _had_  been watching you this whole time.  “Steve,” you look up at him with pleading eyes. “Please take me back.  He’s going to be worried about me.”

Pierce is the one to respond. “You can’t actually believe that can you?  Demons don’t care for anything besides themselves.”

You glare menacingly.  “That’s not true and you might know that if you ever took the time to actually talk to one.”

“Y/N,” Steve chastises. That’s no way to talk to the director.

Pierce’s face turns solemn as he looks you over.  “Rogers, I think it might be best if you take her to see Rumlow.”

You feel Steve stiffen beside you. “Sir?”

Pierce stares him down, daring him to defy his orders.

“Yes, sir,” Steve eventually concedes.  He puts a little pressure against your lower back getting you to move once again.  The two of you step into the elevator.  Once the doors have closed, Steve releases a pain-filled sigh.  “Interrogation, please,” he speaks aloud before the elevator dings and it begins to descend.

Your heart completely stops. “Interrogation?” you repeat in a hushed whisper.

“Just… try to keep your temper in check and everything will be fine.  After you’re done talking with Rumlow, I’ll escort you the initiation center.”

You can no longer fight the panic that’s building up in your chest.  There’s something  _wrong_  about all of this.  And after learning about everything Bucky’s told you, you know you can’t trust anyone at SHIELD.  Even those with the best intentions, like Steve and Wanda.  After all… the road to hell was  _paved_  with good intentions.

“Steve, please take me back. Is my relationship with Bucky  _really_  hurting anyone?  Just leave the two of us alone,  _please_!”

The elevator comes to a stop and he ushers you out.  “I’m sorry. I can’t do that.”

You try to resist, but your efforts are futile and soon the two of you are standing in front of a door. You’re not sure what it is, but everything inside you is screaming at you to  _not_  go inside.  “Steve, please don’t make me do this,” you look up at him, allowing him to see how truly terrified you are, a single tear dripping down your cheek.

He winces, avoiding your gaze. “I’m sorry.”  And then he opens the door and pushes you in.

You stumble forward, dark energy hitting you like a brick wall and making your knees weak.  Everything in the room seems black, a kind of darkness filling every corner of the room, despite the fluorescent lights shining above. There’s a sulphuric taste in your mouth and each breath in your lungs feels heavy.  You feel like you’re going to collapse under the sheer weight of the energy.  And then you see the man that it’s coming from.

His eyes are black and soulless, his features sharp, his gaze piercing.  The amount of energy pouring out of him is immense and you don’t understand how Steve can stand there, completely unaffected by it.

“Rumlow, this is Y/N. Pierce has requested she speak with you before I get her to initiation.”

The man’s gaze never leaves your face, a sadistic grin spreading across his mouth.  “Alright.  I’ll take it from here Rogers.”

Steve seems to hesitate just a moment before he leaves you alone with this man.

As soon as the door has shut, you feel your legs give out and you fall to your knees.  You cough, desperately trying to get whatever it is that fills this room out of your lungs.  “What are you?” you ask through labored breaths.

“How interesting…”  He stands from the desk he’d been perched behind, coming around and leaning against the front of it, arms crossed casually over his chest.  “You’re Barnes’ little whore, right?  His demonic energy in your system must be what allows you to get a read on me. Most of the other assholes in this place can’t even tell.”

You feel like you’re going to hack out a lung with the way you keep coughing.  You can’t even get a breath in at this point.  Your vision swims and your mind becomes hazy.  The weight of his energy only seems to increase.

You fall forward, catching yourself on shaky arms for a moment, before you collapse completely to the floor.

“That’s it.  Nighty night, Sleeping Beauty.”

You wheeze, trying in vain to fill your lungs with air.  Bucky’s smiling face and bright blue eyes fills your mind for a fleeting moment before everything goes dark.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: The following segment contains content that some may find triggering (restraint, torture and interrogation). Please be cautious of your limits before proceeding.

You wake with a pained groan. Your throat feels raw and dry from all your coughing.  It tastes like there’s cotton in your mouth, your tongue thick and swollen.  Your eyes blink open, trying to take in your surroundings.  It’s a dark room, only a single incandescent bulb hangs from a wire directly overhead. The walls are a cold, unforgiving metal. There are places where the metal has stained from blood, grime, and who the hell knows what else.

You try to move, only to realize you’ve been confined to the uncomfortable metal chair you’re sitting in, your hands tied behind the back rest.  Struggling a little more, you find that neither your binds, nor the chair will move.  The chair must be bolted to the floor.  Your bindings, on the other hand seem to tighten further the more you struggle, so you stop quickly.  You try to stretch out your fingers, already feeling the effects from your blood being cut off at the wrist.

You’re left in the dim room for a few minutes before a door opens behind you.  You wince when the grating sound of metal against metal fills your ears. The man from before, Rumlow, steps into your field of vision, dragging a metal chair behind him.  He flips it around and straddles it backward, arms crossed over the back of the chair as he faces you.  His blackened gaze washes over your form.

You’re still able to sense his aura, but it doesn’t seem to affect you as much, he must be muting it.

“Glad to see you’re awake. Was worried there for a moment,” he smirks darkly.

You school your features into an unamused glare, knowing he doesn’t actually give a shit about you.

Your reaction only seems to make his grin widen.  “So… you’re the little descendant that thought it would be a good idea to spread her legs for an incubus.  Can I ask why?”

Your glare hardens. “Because he asked nicely,” you respond sarcastically.

Rumlow’s smirk falls and a second later you feel that heaviness in your lungs again.  You can’t fight the urge to cough, despite how much it hurts to do so.  “You might want to think twice before testing my limits.  You’ll find that they’re  _very_  short,” he warns ominously.

The pain in your chest slowly eases up and you gasp for choked breath.  “What are you?” you repeat your earlier question.

Rumlow regards you for a moment. “What do you know about magic wielders?”

You raise an eye brow. “You’re a witch?” you ask incredulously.

He rolls his eyes.  “There are  _four_  classes of magic wielders,” he starts, holding up four fingers briefly, before switching to just hold one.  “Witches are human and they make up the first class.  They practice natural based magic, using potions from herbs and drawing energies from the alignment of the moon and the sun.  Basic stuff, mostly white magic.”

He holds up two fingers now. “Then there are Enchanters, descendants born with magic.  They can cast spells using their own energies, and some can be relatively powerful. But they too, only wield white magic.” He raises a third finger.  “Then you have Bokors, the voodoo sorcerers that practice both white and black magic.  They use a combination of natural and enhanced magic. Most usually come from demon bloodlines.”

He crosses his arms back over the chair, a sort of darkness shadowing his features.  “Lastly, you have Castors.  And Castors live in a class all on their own, because they’re the ones that give up their souls to possess unlimited power.  They can wield dark magic in its purest form.  The kind of magic you can only dream of.  I’ll let you take a guess at which one I am,” he smirks.

Just one look at his soulless gaze and the answer is clear.  “Castor,” the word escapes you in a dry croak, the dread pooling into you.

He snickers, “That’s right.”

You gulp, despite the scratchiness of your throat.  “But how…? Why has no one stopped you? You’re surrounded by descendants. They should  _know_  when a demon is near-”

“I’m not a demon, sweet cheeks,” he cuts you off.  “Any of the three other classes can become a Castor.  Though the more powerful you are in your original class, the more power you’ll be able to obtain as a Castor.  And the nice thing about it too, I have the ability to make myself seem unchanged to those around me.  None of the idiots around here know that I’m now a Castor, because they still read me as a descendant.  Makes blending in pretty nice.”

You frown, eyeing him warily, “Then why can I sense you?”

A thoughtful expression appears on his face.  “It took me a minute to figure it out.”  His gaze sweeps over you, lips twisting into a sneer.  “But you’ve been fucking Barnes for a few months now.  He’s a high-level demon, can probably read auras better than most.  If enough of his energy seeped into you, it could have enhanced your own abilities. After all, his energy has already been triggering your other powers.”

Your frown deepens.  “How long have you been watching me?”  You thought Bucky and Talia were the only ones that knew about the emergence of your powers.  But it seemed like there was almost  _nothing_  that SHIELD didn’t already know about you.

He shrugs casually. “Technically since you were born. All documented descendent bloodlines are closely monitored.  You were supposed to have been initiated into SHIELD after you graduated high school. We respectfully kept our distance due to your mother’s wishes.  The Enchantress was sent to keep a closer eye on you when you moved away from home.  We weren’t even sure if you were going to show signs of developing your powers.  By the time she figured it out, you were already in too deep with Barnes.”

The way he speaks, especially that last part… It makes your stomach twist.  “You have absolutely no intention of recruiting me, do you?” you question hesitantly.

He chuckles dryly. “No.  We don’t.”

*

Bucky’s phone comes to life at his fingertips, the soft light illuminating his face in the dark hotel room. Another sigh escapes his lips when he sees there’s still no response from you.  His texts have gone unanswered all day, his phone calls running to voicemail. He thought that maybe you were just having a busy day at work, but when night fell and you still hadn’t shown up in his hotel room, he knew something wasn’t right.

Unlocking the phone, he moves into his contacts.  Hitting the call button, he places the phone to his ear.  It rings twice before he hears a response.

“You better have a damn good reason for waking me up at 2 in the morning, Buck.”  Talia’s smooth voice fills his ear.

“I need you to check on Y/N.”

He hears he groan quietly, as she shuffles beneath her sheets.  “Can’t it wait until morning?  She’s probably asleep.”

Bucky runs his fingers through his hair, not liking the uneasy feeling in his chest.  “She came here last night and we agreed that she’d come back tonight.  But I haven’t heard from her all day.  Can you just make sure nothing’s wrong?”

Talia huffs quietly but he can hear her moving out from her covers.  “Yeah, yeah.  I’ll call you back.”

The call ends before he can respond.  He tries to tell himself that everything will be alright.  That Talia will find you already passed out on his bed, because you’d had a hard day at work and just couldn’t manage to stay awake long enough to translocate to him.

He moves into the photo app on his phone, a small smile quirking his lips when he sees your face.  Your eyes are shining brightly, a grin stretching your lips.  Bucky can see himself in the background, frowning slightly, but there’s no mistaking the tenderness in his eyes.  You’d been frustrated that he was spending so much time on his phone, he’d been texting work, so you ended up snatching the phone from his fingers and started taking a series of selfies with it.

He flips through the photo set, watching the frown disappear from his face in the images as your grin only seems to get wider with each shot.  In the last one, he’s moved in closer, his chest pressed to your back, head bent low, as his lips graze the side of your jaw.  He can still hear the giggles that had escaped your lips when you tried to keep still enough so the picture wouldn’t be blurry.

The screen suddenly changes to show the incoming call from Talia.  Bucky swipes to answer before the first ring has finished.  “How is she?”

There’s a few seconds of painstaking silence, “She’s not here, Buck.”

Bucky shoots to his feet and immediately begins pacing the at the foot of the bed.  “What do you mean?  Where is she?”

Talia sighs quietly.  “I don’t know.  Her phone is still on the nightstand, none of your texts even opened. The bed is unmade.  Her work outfit is still hanging up in front of your closet.  I called Scott down at the front desk and he said he never saw her come in this morning. I don’t think she even made it back to the apartment…”

*

You hear the door open once again behind you.  “How is it going?”  The older man from before, Director Pierce, enters the room, coming around your seated form to stand beside Rumlow.

“We’re having a nice chat,” Rumlo smirks.

Seeing a potential opportunity to get yourself out of this, your heart skips a beat.  “Yes, about how this man here is a Castor and he’s been hiding it from everyone on this base, including you, sir.”  You speak quickly, urgently trying to oust Rumlow before he can stop you.

Pierce gives you a blank look, his lips pursed in a frown.  His gaze then shifts to Rumlow.  “You do realize that because you’ve told her, there’s now no chance of us being able to initiate her.”

You gape at his words.  He  _knew_?! This man was supposed to be  _the head_  of SHIELD, and he willing has a Castor working for him?  Any possible hope for escape is dashed in an instant.

Rumlow chuckles darkly.  “Was that even an option to begin with?  She fucked an incubus.  She’s tainted goods now.”

You glare at the two of them, your hands tightening into fists.  If only you weren’t tied up, you’d like to show these two just how  _tainted_  you really were.

“Fine,” Pierce sighs solemnly. “See what information you can get out of her, then mark her and put her with the others.”

Rumlow looks at him in slight confusion.  “Mark her? Holy water isn’t going to work on her.”

Pierce reaches out to place his hand in Rumlow’s shoulder.  “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”  With a parting nod he moves back to the door.

A sinister grin stretches his mouth, “Oh I do believe I already have.  This is going to be fun.”

Your heartrate triples in speed. You don’t want to know what he’s thinking, but either way, you know you’re going to find out.  You hear the door shut once again.

“So, what can you tell me about Barnes?” Rumlow asks.

You give him a flat look.  It pisses you off that he actually expects you to answer.  Like your loyalty to Bucky means nothing.  “That his dick is bigger than yours.”  You already know you’re not getting out of this, may as well make the most of it.

You see the rage ignite in his gaze, his face morphing into a scowl that makes you  _almost_  regret your choice of words.  “Is that why you let him fuck you?  Because he has a big dick?”

“Well it helps that he actually knows how to use it.  When was the last time  _you_ were able to get a girl off using just your cock?”

You should have seen it coming, especially with how mouthy you were being, but the sting of his slap wouldn’t have hurt any less, even if you had.  Your head swings to the side, a loud crack piercing the air.  Your lips part in a pained gasp, the whole left side of your face burning.  There’s a metallic taste on your tongue, blood seeping from where the inside of your cheek cut into your teeth.

“Let’s try this again, shall we? What can you tell us about Barnes that’s actually  _useful_  information?”

You grit your teeth against the pain, slowly turning your head back to face him.  “Why would I help you hurt him?”

“Because it will help  _me_  to stop from hurting you,” he threatens.

“Do your worst.”

He stands abruptly.  “Okay.  But remember,” he lifts the chair and moves it aside.  “You asked for this.”

You hear the clang of some other metal object knocking against the wall as Rumlow moves to grab it.  Stepping back to your line of sight, he’s now holding a long metal rod.  One hand is wrapped around the handle, the rod extending about two feet.  His other hand holds the rod just below its flared base. Turning it slightly, you’re able to see that the base is in the shape of a star.

Your heart drops to your stomach and it’s just now clicking what Pierce meant when he said to “Mark her.” Bucky had told you that they used a branding iron dipped in holy water to create the mark on his shoulder.

“We’ve used this baby on every demon that’s stepped foot in this facility over the last 300 years.  Lucky you, you’re going to be the first ever descendant on the receiving end.”  Rumlow takes pride in watching the blood drain from your face.

He releases the base end of the iron, holding his hand out flat, palm up.  He gently blows into it and suddenly a flickering flame appears.  It’s small, not much bigger than a candle flame, but you can somehow feel the heat coming off of it all the way from where you’re sitting.

“It’s pretty, right?” Rumlow asks you, the blackness in his gaze flickering red with the light of the fire. “Pulled from the gates of hell itself. This is the hottest fire you’re ever going to find.”  He moves his hand to hold the flame beneath the star.  “Hell Fire is pretty nasty stuff for descendants, too.  It doesn’t affect me because I’m the conjurer, but if someone else was coming at me with some?  You’d never see me run so fast,” he chuckles with dry humor.  “You want me to do my worst, sweet cheeks?  This is it.”

Within seconds, the star is glowing a vibrant orange from the heat of the fire.  Not only that, but the sealed metal room has turned into an oven. Sweat forms on your brow, a few drops sliding down your cheeks.

“Why are you doing this?” you ask quietly, unable to push the fear back any more, not now that the threat is so  _real_.

Rumlow  _laughs_ , closing his hand into a fist to extinguish the flame. “Because it’s fun.”

Before you get the chance to do or say anything else, he’s pushed the sleeve of your shirt up and is already pressing the star to your left shoulder.

*

It’s another horribly painful day and a half of meetings and contracts before Bucky is able to get on a plane to fly back home.  He’d done everything he could to try to get out as fast as possible, but his bosses really wanted him to secure the land before he left.  He had half a mind to say screw it and leave without doing so, but he also knew that he could quickly subdue the contractors and get papers signed if he increased the charm.

The task was a little difficult without his head, or really his heart, in it.  He kept texting Talia for updates, but her responses only made the urgency to get back home more severe.  As soon as the last contract was signed, Bucky was in a car headed to the airport.

His knee bounces anxiously the entire plane ride, he’s almost surprised it doesn’t throw them off course. He tries to calm himself down by going through the pictures on his phone, like he had the previous night.  It helps for all of 15 minutes.  His mind keeps racing with the worst scenarios of what could have happened to you.

He’s running on zero sleep over the last 56 hours when the plane touches down and he leaves the airport. He’d left his car in the business lot, so at least he didn’t have to deal with transportation issues.  He shoves his luggage into the trunk and is on the road in seconds.  It’s time to get some damn answers.

He pulls up to your apartment, slamming the car door a little harsher than necessary.  He walks through the front entrance, gritting his teeth against the wards that try to repel his presence.  The enchantress had beefed up her security.  Must mean she  _knows_  he was coming for her.

He makes his way up to your floor, stopping at the front door.  He sees light shining beneath the door and he can hear sounds inside.  He bangs his fist against the wood, nearly splitting it with his inability to control himself.

The door opens, the young enchantress’ eyes widening in shock.  “You are not welcome here,” she tells him.

“Where is she?” he grits out, his voice cold, deadly.

“Somewhere she’ll be safe from you,” she glares back.  Bucky might have been impressed by her courage if he wasn’t so on edge.

“You really think she’ll be safe  _there_.  After she’s been with  _me_  for so long?  They’re not just going to accept her and be okay with it!  Hell,  _she’s_  not going to accept it! She knows the truth about what SHIELD is, a truth that  _you_  are too blinded to see.  She’s a threat to them.  She is  _not_  safe.”

Bucky already has the confirmation he needs on your location.  His work here is done.  He turns to head back down the hallway.

“Wait!  Where are you going?”  Wanda follows him out into the hallway, casting a ward quickly to prevent him from moving forward.

“To get her back,” Bucky growls.

“I cannot let you,” she can feel him resisting her ward as she tries to strengthen it.

He turns back to face her, taking several strides until there’s barely space between the two of them.  “Let me put it this way, so that maybe you will understand.  As an agent for SHIELD, what is the charge for associating with demons?”

It takes Wanda a second to ponder his question, her eyes widening when she realizes where he’s headed.  She gulps, answering hesitantly.  “Treason.”

His head tilts, eyes glinting dangerously.  “And what is the penalty for treason?”

One word escapes her lips in a horrified whisper.  “Death.”

Bucky feels his gut clench at even the possibility of that word being associated with you.  He  _couldn’t_  let that happen.  “You really think they’re going to welcome her with open arms, when she’s already committed the highest possible offense?  If anything happens to her… her blood is on  _your_  hands.”

He turns to leave once more.

“James, wait I-” she calls out to him.

He pauses and looks at her over his shoulder.

She seems to be thinking things over, wondering if she truly  _did_  make a mistake.  “There’s a spell I can use… Clairvoyant Observation, that will allow me to see what’s happening to her.”

He turns fully around, raising a brow.  “Can you do it now?”

She bites her lip and shakes her head.  “I’ll need a few days to prepare.”

Bucky frowns.  “She might not have a few days.”

“Please.  Let me make this right.  She’s my friend,” Wanda begs.

He sighs, jaws clenching.  “What do you need to complete the spell?”

A spark of hope lightens Wanda’s gaze.  “Something of hers that has sentimental value.”

Bucky takes a moment to think it over.  “I think she has a bracelet at my apartment.  Her grandmother gave it to her.”

Wanda nods, “Yes, I know the one. That should work.  Bring it to me and I can take care of everything else.”

Bucky nods and turns to leave without interruption.

*

Rumlow has moved you to a cell. Your body is curled up on the ground in the back corner, visibly shaking.  You clutch your injured arm to your chest, the pain ripping through your whole body as fire stems from the burn on your shoulder.  He explained to you that descendants had a particular weakness for Hell Fire.  That wounds created by such fire would  _never_  stop burning.

You had hoped he’d been joking. Trying to scare you.  But you don’t even know how much time has passed and the pain  _still_  felt as fresh as when he’d first touched you with the iron.  There was no escaping it.  No growing numb to it.  Just a constant ache.  Fire forever burning in your veins.

Your body has broken into a cold sweat, desperately trying to counteract the heat.  But it was fruitless.  You were feverish, delirious… and you realize more than ever that you were probably going to die like this.

You hear the jingle of keys before the cell door slides open.  “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty.”

Your body would have shuddered at Rumlow’s voice, if you weren’t already shaking like a leaf in a storm.

He grips your elbow, yanking you to your feet.  You cry out, feeling the burn throb even more painfully in your shoulder.  He tugs you down the hallway.  In your bleary state, you can vaguely hear some of the other prisoners hissing or growling as the two of you walk passed.  But most are huddled as far back into their cells as you had been.

Rumlow takes you back into the interrogation room, forcing you into the chair and tying you up.  “Are you going to answer my questions today?” he asks, settling into the chair across from yours.

You remain silent, keeping your head low.

“Hey,” he kicks his leg out, nudging his boot against your shin.  “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

You lift your gaze, staring at him blankly.

He stares back for a moment before a smirk curls at his lips.  “How long do you think Barnes waited?”

Your lips draw into a frown, brows furrowing in slight confusion.  It’s difficult to discern his meaning with the pain clouding your head.

“I mean, the guy’s gotta eat right?”

Oh.   _That’s_  what he meant.  You wince dropping your gaze once more.  You’re honestly not sure how much time has passed. A few days, a week… a month?  You had no way to tell time besides Rumlow’s visits to you.  And honestly the pain made everything blur together anyway.

Even if it hadn’t been long, there was still truth behind Rumlow’s mocking.  Bucky was going to have to feed sooner or later.  And with you being here… that only meant that he’d have to go elsewhere.

You didn’t want to think about that.  You wanted to trust him.  But at the same time, you could feel yourself losing your grip on reality.  You could feel yourself breaking.

“You know, he could be fucking someone right now.  He’s probably forgotten all about you.”

“No,” your voice cracks on the simple word.  The first thing you’ve managed to say that wasn’t a scream or moan of pain.

Rumlow’s eyes light up at your response, happy to get a rouse out of you.  “Oh?  You  _actually_  think that he’s coming for you, don’t you?” His sardonic laughter fills the room. “Poor little naïve angel. Thinking that a demon could ever care for her more than the fucks she gives him.”

“Stop it.”

“You need to open your eyes. He was using you from the start. He found an easy target.  A constant supply of energy.  And he used your desperation for attention and tenderness to get what he wanted.  I guarantee that the second he realized you were out of his life, he already had someone new warming his bed.”

“ _Shut up_!” you scream, a burst of energy escaping your body in the form of white light.

The shock on Rumlows face registers for a split second before he chuckles.  “Wow.  You must be truly delirious to have just wasted all that energy.  White light isn’t going to work on me sweet cheeks, I may be a Castor, but I had been a descendant before that.”

You grit your teeth, feeling your head swim.  “You’re a heartless demon.  James has more humanity in his thumb than you did before you ever gave up your soul,” you growl.

Rumlow smirks, not put out by your words.  “Who needs humanity when you can have power?”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: The following segment contains content that some may find triggering (restraint, torture and interrogation). Please be cautious of your limits before proceeding.

“You know, I’m actually a little surprised.  Thought you would have cracked a long time ago.  You’ve got spark, kid.  I’ll give you that.”  Rumlow leans forward in his seat, eyeing you with faint admiration.  “What is it that’s driving you?  Is it loyalty, stubbornness… love?”

He notices the slight twitch in your jaw, despite the way you try to keep your face neutral.  A slow grin stretches across his mouth.  “Wow,” he breathes before he laughs.  “Really?” he questions with a shake of his head.  “You’re  _in love_  with him?”

You narrow your gaze, maintaining your stoic silence.

He scoots his chair closer, looking at you with interest.  “What the hell is that like?  To be in love,  _knowing_  that he’ll never love you back.  Did you just not care?  Or did you somehow manage to trick yourself into thinking that maybe ‘in his own way’ he  _does_  love you?  Because really, that’s just sad.”

“Do you ever shut up?” you ask, your voice sounding like something else entirely.  Your throat is so raw and hoarse.

Rumlow only laughs again.  “Touched a nerve, did we?”  He bends down, lifting the water bottle he’d set at the foot of his chair when he’d begun the session.  You knew that this was only going to be another part of his game.  You honestly thought he was just going to leave it there the whole time to taunt you.  You’re not sure when the last time was you’d had anything to drink.

“You gettin’ thirsty?” he asks knowingly.  “This is pure holy water, right here.  One sip of this can increase the healing process by 10.”

You maintain your silence.

“I can give you this  _whole bottle_ , but I’m gonna need something first. Just any little thing you have on Barnes.  Anything that can help us deal with an incubus.  I’m sure you must have learned  _something_  with all that pillow talk you two had.”

You don’t even have to think about, your response automatic.  “Go fuck yourself.”

He releases a long sigh, feigning despondence.  “I didn’t want to have to do this, sweet cheeks.  You’ve started to grow on me.  But if you’re going to leave me no choice…”  He reaches into the pocket of his pants and pulls out a small vial of yellow liquid.  “Do you know what this is?”

You glance briefly at the vial before looking back at him.

“This is arachnae venom,” he tells you.  He smirks when your eyes widen just a fraction, telling him that you know  _exactly_  what he holds in his hand.  “One drop of this shit can kill a human.  This whole  _vial_  can kill a descendant.  Now, we’re not quite done with you; yet, so I can’t give this stuff to you straight.” He moves to open the bottle of holy water.  “That’s why I’m gonna dilute it.”  Twisting open the cap of the vial, he turns it upside down, pouring the contents into the bottle.

Your breath starts to come in quick, shallow pants when you see how the holy water reacts to the venom. It starts to bubble and pop violently, turning an angry blood red.

Rumlow stands from his seat and approaches you, his gaze dark.

You shake your head, “No. Please don’t-”

He fists a handful of hair at the back of your head, and yanks back.  You cry out in pain, presenting him with the opportunity to pour the deadly concoction into your mouth.  There’s nowhere for the liquid to go but down.  You choke and sputter around the opening of the bottle.  If you thought your throat hurt before, you would have given anything to go back to that level of pain, because this was so much worse.  The venom had turned the water to acid, and you could feel it turning your insides to ash.  It burned the whole way down your throat, settling into your stomach in a pool of fire.

Rumlow pulls the empty bottle away from your lips.  You lean forward as much as your bindings will allow, desperately trying to cough through the pain.  You can feel the holy water battling against the venom inside you.  The angelic and demonic energies at war with each other, while you are caught in the middle.

You feel the weight of Rumlow’s hand against your shoulder.  “I’m gonna let that simmer for a bit.  When I get back, you should be a little more cooperative.”  He gives your shoulder a squeeze before you hear him leave the room.

*

Bucky knocks impatiently on the door of your apartment.  With each day that passes, he grows more agitated.  Talia’s already started avoiding him.  It’s absolute hell that he feels like he’s not doing anything.  That it feels like there’s nothing he  _can_  do.

Wanda opens the door and allows him in.  She’s taken down the wards around the building, but he can feel that your apartment is pulsing with her energy.  She had already explained that it was going to require a massive amount to perform the spell, which is why she needed time to prepare.

“Do you have the bracelet?” she questions.

He pulls his hand out of his pocket, where he’d obsessively been clutching the bracelet to ensure he didn’t lose it.  Holding it out, he almost doesn’t want to part with it.  He unclenches his fingers, forcing himself to let it go.

Wanda encloses it in her fist, and brings her hand to her chest.  “I’m just about ready.”

Bucky nods and follows her as she walks to your room.  “What’s that smell?” he asks, scrunching his nose in displeasure.

“Incense,” Wanda responds as she walks to your bed.  “Bay leaves, nutmeg and sandalwood.  They’ll help to promote my psychic abilities”

Bucky understands that it must hold  _some kind of_  importance, but he doesn’t like it.  Partially because of the ‘witch-y’ aspect of it, but mainly because your room no longer smells like  _you_.  He crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the doorway, watching as she sits cross legged on the center of your bed.

“Close the door and move over there.  You’re disrupting the path of my energy,” she instructs.

He wants to roll his eyes, but he refrains and does as she’s asked.  He moves to the chair in the corner of your room and takes a seat.  He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he watches Wanda work.

She holds your bracelet in her left hand, palm open.  She dangles a crystal pendant from a silver chain with her right hand directly over the bracelet.  She closes her eyes and allows to pendant to sway ever so slightly.  Her lips move as she begins to chant to herself; though, she’s not actually saying anything out loud.  Not like Bucky would understand any of it anyway.

He’s not sure how long it was supposed to take.  Time seems to tick by slower than usual.  He finds himself watching the subtle sway of the pendant, almost becoming hypnotized by the gentle rocking.  He hasn’t slept in days, so really he shouldn’t be surprised by how easily he’s consumed by it.  He’s only pulled out of his trance after he hears Wanda gasp.

His gaze lifts to her face. Her eyes are still closed, but there’s a crease between her brows, her lips drawn into a frown.

“What is it?” he asks before he can stop himself.  He doesn’t want to break her concentration, but he also needs to know what’s going on.

“I’ve established a connection,” Wanda speaks.  “It’s dark. There’s a metallic tang in the air.”

“Metallic?” Bucky questions. “Like blood?”

Her brow furrows.  “No.  I don’t think so.  She’s just surrounded by metal.  I-” Her voice breaks off when she intakes a sharp breath.  “She’s… she’s in pain,” Wanda winces.  “A-a  _lot_  of pain.”

Bucky shoots to his feet. He doesn’t give a damn about disrupting her energy flow, he just knows that he can’t sit still any longer.  “What kind of pain?  Where is it concentrated?”

Wanda tries to focus for a moment. “I don’t-  It’s  _everywhere_.  The pain, it’s-  It’s hot. Burning.  Ah!”  Wanda cries out loudly, her hand jerking to drop the bracelet.

Her eyes fly open, looking down at her hand, where distinct red burn marks have imprinted on her palm.

Bucky stares at the burn in shock, his gut clenching.  “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know…” she breathes, her hands beginning to shake.  She looks up at him through wide, distressed eyes.  “We have to get her out of there.”

Bucky’s jaw clenches.  He already fucking knew that.  “And how do you suggest we do that?”

Wanda frowns, thinking for a moment.  “I can contact my commanding officer.  He can help.”

That puts Bucky on edge. Working with one SHIELD agent was risky as is, but to now involve a  _second one_?  “Can you trust him?” he asks cautiously.  He rolls his eyes when Wanda looks at him in confusion.  “If you tell one wrong person about what’s going on, they will _kill_  her.  So I repeat,  _can you trust him_?”

Wanda takes a deep breath, thinking it over some more before she nods.  “He is a good man.  He’ll do what’s right.  I trust him to help us.”

Bucky releases a strained huff. “Fine.  Get in contact with him.  If I haven’t heard back from you in an hour, I’m gonna buy a fucking airplane and fly it to SHIELD myself.”

*

“Y/N?”

You hear the voice calling out to you and you blink open your eyes.  You don’t remember closing them in the first place.  Maybe it was in the hope of getting away from the pain.  Maybe you’d actually managed to pass out from it.  You tilt your head up, meeting a soft blue gaze.  “Bucky…” your lips spread into the barest hint of a smile.

“Y/N, it’s Steve,” the person speaks, looking at you with concern.

The more you blink, the more the face in front of you begins to change and you realize that no, it’s not Bucky. It takes another minute before you  _can_  recognize the man.  “Steve?” you release a shaky breath.  “Come to continue where Rumlow left off?”

Steve gives you a distressed look. “What in the world happened?  I checked your file.  You were supposed to have been checked into the initiation center  _days_  ago.”

“Guess someone lied,” your voice cracks and your vision swims.  It still feels like your body is getting ripped to pieces from the inside out.  “If you have any mercy.  You’ll just kill me now.  Pretty sure I’m already dying…  But quick sounds really nice, right about now.”

“Y/N.  I need you to tell me what happened?  Why is Rumlow doing this to you?”  He kneels down in front of you, trying to keep your gaze as your head bobs down.

“He wanted information on Bucky. And I wouldn’t tell,” you explain, you blink several times in an attempt to clear your vision, but doing so only makes you dizzy.

“Information?  What kind of information?”

“Anything really. Weaknesses, I think.”  You don’t understand why you’re actually being responsive to his questions, but then you remember what Rumlow had said right before he left. The venom was either working as some sort of truth serum, or you were just so delirious from the pain, that you could no longer control yourself.  Either option seemed perfectly likely.

Steve looks at you in confusion. “Why didn’t you just tell him what he wanted to know?  It never would have resorted to  _this_.”

You scoff dryly.  “Because I’d rather die protecting the man I love than give in to SHIELD’s fear and hatred.”

He looks at you in surprise. “You love him?  But how?  He’s a demon.”  His voice lacks the mocking of Rumlow’s tone.  He just seems genuinely confused, maybe even a little curious.

“He’s more than just a demon. He’s a  _person_.  He has thoughts and feelings, too.  SHIELD has made you blind.  There is good in demons if you give yourself the chance to look.”

Steve frowns, considering your words.  “But… Does he love you back?”

You release a sigh, wincing when the pain of doing so hits your lungs.  “Doesn’t matter.  I’ll love him enough for the two of us.”

Steve’s gaze flickers over your face, reading the truth behind your expression.  He stands and moves behind you.

“What are you doing?” you ask when you feel the bindings around your wrists beginning to loosen.

“I’m getting you out of here.”


	11. Chapter 11

“Can you walk?” Steve asks once your bindings are loose.  He comes back to your front and gently pulls you to your feet.

Your legs wobble precariously before completely giving out.  “That’s a no.”

Steve is quick to catch you before you fall.  “Alright. I’ve got you.”  He lifts your body into his arms as if you weigh nothing. You wince when all the jostling makes your stomach turn.

Steve leaves the room.  The brightness of the hallway hurts your eyes. You tuck your face into his neck, trying to shy away from the light as a headache begins to develop on top of everything else.

“Shit.  You’re burning up!”  Steve can feel the heat coming off of you in waves.

“Really?  I hadn’t noticed,” you mumble dryly.

Steve walks as quickly as he can through the base, though it takes a little longer since he’s trying to use hallways he knows will be abandoned.  If anyone sees him, he can easily enough tell them that he’s just taking you to the infirmary, but he’d rather avoid any unnecessary interactions. “We won’t be able to use a translocation circle to get out of here.  It’ll alert the crew and they’ll be able to track us.  Will you make it if we fly?” Steve asks you.

“Only one way to find out, I guess.  But if I throw up on your wings, I’m not apologizing.”

Steve finds his lips tilting upward ever so slightly.  “Glad Rumlow wasn’t able to wipe out that sarcasm.”

“Rumlow’s a prick,” you mutter in disgust.

That makes him frown.  “Y/N, I’m so sorry.  I never should have left you with him.  If I had known-”

“But you  _did_  know,” you argue, though your voice is weak, it’s still accusatory.  “It’s why you hesitated when Pierce ordered you.”

Steve winces at the truth of your words.  “But we don’t do this.  Not to our own kind.  Not to those that are innocent.”

If your throat wasn’t so raw, you would have scoffed.  “I can’t tell if you’re truly that ignorant.  Or just stupid.”

Your conversation is put on hold when Steve finally steps out onto the back deck.  The wind whips at your hair and face.  The coolness of it feels good against your heated skin, but the rush of air also burns your lungs.

“If you drop me, I’m going to haunt you for the rest of my undead life,” you warn feebly.

“I’m not going to drop you,” Steve responds, unsheathing his wings and letting them stretch out.  He pulls your body closer into his chest before he takes off.

You crack open your eyes, watching over his shoulder as the distance between yourselves and the Helicarrier grows.  You release the breath you didn’t even realize you had been holding.  “I sincerely hope this isn’t some figment of my imagination drummed up by the venom,” you mutter quietly.

“Venom?” Steve questions, glancing down at your face as you tuck it back against his shoulder.

“Rumlow forced me to drink arachnae venom,” you wince, your body reminding you of the burning pain with a particularly intense throb.

You feel Steve’s entire body stiffen.  “Shit,” he curses, before beating his wings a little faster.  “Hang on, Y/N.  At least until I can get you back to Wanda.”

“Wanda?” you ask in confusion.

“She performed a clairvoyance spell to check on you.  When she realized something was wrong she told me to come looking for you.”

“Why would she do that?”

“Because she was worried about you.  She  _does_  see you as a friend, Y/N.”

You know you should feel happy about this, but you find your mind drifting down a dark path instead.  This whole escape plan was orchestrated because of  _Wanda_?  Did Bucky even know that you were gone?  Did he even  _care_?

You squeeze your eyes shut and bury your face into Steve’s neck, trying to fight off the tears.

The rest of the flight is spent in silence.  You figure Steve must have thought that you’d fallen asleep, but really you were in too much pain to do so.  You blink open your eyes when you feel his feet land on solid earth.  You look up at the familiar building.  Your apartment.  Steve hurries inside.

“Wanda?!” he calls out, shifting you a little so he can knock on the door.

She’s there in seconds, tears coming to her eyes when she sees you huddled in Steve’s arms.  She gasps, covering her mouth with a hand.  She quickly ushers Steve inside, directing him to set you down on the couch.

“Oh, Y/N!  I’m  _so_  sorry.”  She grabs a blanket off the back of the couch and gently drapes it over your shivering form.

“I’m going to run a perimeter check.  It won’t take SHIELD long to realize she’s missing.  They might already know.  We can’t stay here,” Steve tells Wanda before he heads back to the door.  “Keep an eye on her.”

Wanda nods.  She pulls her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans and types a quick text to Bucky to let him know you’re here.  She turns back to you, hesitantly taking a seat on the couch. You eye her warily.

Her gaze meets yours, full of remorse.  “I swear, this was  _never_  supposed to happen.  I was just trying to keep you safe.”

You look away, your gaze staring unfocused at the wall across the room.  “The road to hell is paved in good intentions,” you repeat the phrase that had been running through your head during this whole ordeal.

She winces openly.  “What happened?  Who did this to you?”

“You have no right to ask,” you huff.  With the amount of pain filling your entire being, you can’t seem to find any sympathy. Nor do you want to.

She lowers her gaze in shame. “I’m sorry.  I know that this is all my fault.”

“Was I always just a mission to you?” you ask some of your betrayal leaking through your voice.

She looks at you in confusion.

“They told me you were assigned to keep an eye on me.  Were we ever friends?”

Her face falls, “Of course we were.  Y/N, you’re my best friend.  I was just trying to protect you.”

“You call this  _protection_?!  To send a Nephilim to kidnap me?  To take me away from the man that  _truly_  cared about my wellbeing.  To take me to a place where I would be  _tortured and interrogated_ , all because of the one person I care about?  Because my ideals and the way I choose to live my life doesn’t match with SHIELD’s?!”  Tears of frustration sting at the corner of your eyes and it takes everything within you not to let them spill.

Wanda doesn’t have as much luck, a few tears spilling down her cheeks.  “I will never be able to apologize enough for what’s happened.  After James made me realize what they might do to you, I tried to make up from my mistake.”

Your gaze whips to meets hers. “James?” you repeat.

She nods with a sniff, trying to wipe at her tears.  “He came here looking for you.  I thought he was going to kill me, I could feel the anger radiating off of him. Demons are usually masters at concealing their emotions, but looking at him was like watching a caged tiger.”

You release a stuttering breath, your mind not entirely sure what to do with this information.

The front door bursts open with a loud bang, making you jump.  You look over in surprise, your eyes meeting with that familiar cerulean gaze.  “Bucky?”

The look of pure relief that washes over his face makes your heart stop.  “Y/N…” his voice sounds just as raw and broken as yours.  He’s in front of you in seconds, falling to his knees at your feet.  There’s a crease between his brows, his eyes wide, his lips trembling.  He looks  _scared_. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this look on his face, nor did you think you ever would.  His hand shakes as he reaches out for you, before he pauses and you suddenly realize what’s causing this fear, because you feel it yourself.  You’re  _terrified_ that this isn’t real.  That  _he_  isn’t real.

But then his fingers brush against your knee and you just completely fall apart.  “Oh god, Bucky!”  You lean forward, throwing your arms around his neck.  His own arms are around you in an instant, pulling your body as close as physically possible, even though it still doesn’t feel like it’s enough.  You bury your face into his neck, inhaling his familiar scent with every breath.  “I thought I’d never see you again.”  The tears you’d been trying to hold back are now flowing freely, sobs racking your whole body.

His arms tighten even more. “I was so worried about you, Lumina. I was going out of my mind!”

Your fingers grasp at his shirt, your muscles protesting again the effort it takes to squeeze him so tight. But you  _needed_  to feel him against you.  “I didn’t tell them anything, Bucky.  I swear!” you cry out, desperately begging him to believe you.

Bucky looks up at you in confusion.  “Didn’t tell them what, Lumina?”

You sniff, choking on another sob. “About you.  They wanted to know your weaknesses.”  You feel his body tense.  “But I didn’t tell them, I promise,” you add quickly, scared he won’t believe you and he’ll leave.

But instead, his gaze softens. One of his hands loosens from around you and moves to frame the underside of your jaw.  “My Lumina.  So brave and strong.”

You nuzzle your cheek against his palm, your gaze washing over his face and  _really_  take a look at him.  There are dark circles beneath his eyes, his skin an almost sickly pale, his cheeks slightly sunken in.  You frown in concern, your hands framing his cheeks as your thumbs swipe gently beneath his red-rimmed eyes.  “Bucky, you look so tired,” you whisper quietly.

The very corner of his mouth twitches as he fights a grimace.  “I haven’t slept properly since you were last in my arms.  I haven’t really done  _anything_  since then.”

A broken sob escapes you when to realize the implication behind his words.  It becomes difficult to breathe around the heaviness of your cries.

Noticing your distress, Bucky tries to wipe away your tears.  “What’s wrong, Lumina?”

You shake your head, trying to push away his hands.  You didn’t deserve his comfort.  “He- He told me you wouldn’t wait. That you would have to move on in order to feed.  I didn’t want to, but I was starting to believe him.  Oh Bucky, I never should have doubted you.  I’m so sorry!”

Bucky remains persistent, pulling your body closer and pushing the hair out of your face.  “Hey, Lumina no.  You have  _nothing_  to apologize for, draga mea.  If anything,  _I_  should be the one that’s sorry. I never should have let you leave my hotel room.  You wanted to stay and I made you leave.  None of this would have happened if I let you stay.”

You hate seeing that look of blame on his face, but it’s enough to help you snap out of it a little.  With his face still framed between your hands, you lift his gaze to meet yours as you lower your head slightly.  “None of this is your fault Bucky.”

“Lumina…”  You notice the way his eyes dip a little to your mouth, but he fights the urge.  He doesn’t want to push your limits.

You feel your heart melt for him, the love of your life.  You were so lucky to have him, sometimes you still couldn’t believe it.  You lean forward until your lips are pressed.  His reaction is instant, his response urgent. His hand cradles the back of your head while your fingers comb through his hair.  Everything about him is so familiar, it helps to dispel the thoughts that this might be an illusion.  His taste on your tongue, his scent in your lungs, the spark that ignites beneath your skin wherever he touches you…  Everything is a reaction that you  _know_  can only be caused by him.

Bucky feels the same need as you. To tell his mind that this is  _real_ , that you’re  _here_.  He needs to feel you beneath his fingertips, to taste you, to breathe you.  His hand pulls out of your hair, fingers brushing down your neck; however, the moment his hands brushes over the curve of your shoulder, you pull back with a gasp of pain.

He releases you instantly, worry clouding his face.  “What is it?”

You wince, releasing a small whimper as you clutch your left arm to your chest.  “My shoulder,” you respond without thinking, the pain clouding your better judgement.

You don’t realize your mistake until after Bucky’s pushed the blanket away and has begun to lift the sleeve of your shirt to see what’s wrong.

You hear the gasp escape from Wanda’s lips, but the only thing that registers is the flash of rage igniting in Bucky’s eyes.  The blue turns to a vibrant hot red, his pupils dilating.  “Who did this to you?” he growls through clenched teeth.

“Bucky…” you eye him cautiously. You try to pull your sleeve back down but stop at his growl of warning.

“I’ll fucking kill them all.”

“Y/N,” you turn your head at Wanda’s call.  Her gaze is firmly planted on the mark.  “Who did that?” she repeats Bucky’s question.

You wince, feeling another wave of pain surge forth, the venom and the mark seeming to be in competition with each other.  “A man named Rumlow.”

“Rumlow?!” she questions in shock.

“Who is that?” Bucky asks, glaring her down.

Wanda gulps, not particularly enjoying being on the receiving end of such a look.  “He’s the lead interrogator for SHIELD.  Why were you with him?” she asks you.

“Because I was ordered by Pierce to take her to him.”  The three of you look up at the sound of Steve’s voice.

The red in Bucky’s gaze turns to black and in a flash, he’s got Steve pinned against the wall, his forearm locked over Steve’s throat.  “Give me one good fucking reason not to rip your wings straight off your back,  _Nephilim_ ,” Bucky spits out the word like it’s dirty.

“Bucky!” you cry out in surprise at his reaction.

“James, just hear me out,” Steve starts, trying to keep calm.

“Fuck you!  I should have fucking known this was all you.  You fucking coward!”

Wanda shoots to her feet, unsure if she should step in or not.  “James!”

He ignores the two of you, pressing his forearm harder against Steve’s throat.  “First Natalia and now  _this_?!” he hisses through his teeth.

Steve’s gaze narrows into a pointed glare, his calm demeanor vanishing in an instant.  “Don’t you  _dare_  bring her into this.    _You’re_  the one that turned her into your personal sex toy!  I was just trying to stop you from doing that to another innocent woman!”

Bucky’s glare hardens as he bares his teeth.  “What are you fucking talking about?!  I’ve never even had sex with Talia.”

That seems to throw Steve off for a second, but then his jaw ticks and he glares again.  “Don’t lie to me!  A bond forms between the demon master and the one he turns!”

“The bond between us is platonic, you idiot!  I’ve never touched her.  She’s like a sister to me.”

Steve’s nostrils flare when he exhales as he tries to get ahold of his emotions.  “Look.  I think this is a matter to discuss at a later time.  You need to focus on Y/N.  Rumlow put arachnae venom in her.”

That seems to cut through the rage in Bucky’s head enough to get him to release Steve.  Bucky steps back, the glare still firmly planted in his eyes. “Anything happens to her?  You’re as good as dead, Rogers,” he threatens before turning and moving back to you.  He kneels down in front of you.  “How long has the venom been inside you?”

You shrug, wincing when it tugs at the mark on your shoulder.  “Don’t know. They don’t exactly keep clocks in the interrogation rooms.”

Steve steps closer cautiously. “Can’t you just use your blood to counteract the venom?  Like with…” his voice falls away before he can say her name.

Bucky’s jaw ticks in annoyance. “ _Talia_  had been human when the arachnae bit her.”  He looks up at you, distress and worry lining his features.  “The angel blood running through your veins would fight against mine before it could even get to the venom.”

“So what can we do?” Wanda asks.

Bucky stands and moves to lift your body into his arms.  “I know someone that should be able to help.  Lumina, I need you to hang on just a little longer, okay?”

You wrap your arm around his neck as he holds you close to his chest and nod you head.  “Okay.”

“I’m coming with you,” Wanda takes a step forward.  “I want to help.”

Bucky doesn’t bother trying to stop her as he moves for the door.  It would just waste more time.

“Wait.  Where are you going?” Steve questions.

“None of your fucking business,” Bucky remarks coldly before he’s out the door.

“Buck,” you chastise weakly. It’s not difficult to discern the history between the two of them, but you hated seeing that discourse.  “He got me out of there.  You could at least be a little grateful.”

He scoffs, stepping into the elevator.  “He’s the one that took you there in the first place, isn’t he?  The one that left you with that maniac.”

You release a low sigh, tucking your head into his shoulder.  There really wasn’t much point in arguing over it, you realize.  And you guess it was a little hypocritical, considering your current opinions on your roommate.

Once you’re all out at the car, Wanda helps to open the passenger door to allow Bucky to set you down in your seat before she climbs in back.  Bucky pulls his phone out of his back pocket and quickly dials a number as he makes his way to the driver’s side.  “Sam?  I’m gonna need a favor…”


	12. Chapter 12

You find yourself drifting in and out of consciousness the whole drive.  Your breathing has become more labored, your skin hot and feverish. Your eyes crack open, looking out the window, when you hear the car turn onto a dirt road.  Trees line the whole path, just the beginning of an endless forest.  The dying rays of the setting sun just barely filter through the gaps between the trees. The road ends at a wooden cabin-style house, a yellow lantern illuminated above the door.

Bucky brings the car to a stop and gets out.  He moves to your side, opening the door and lifting your body into his arms.  You hear Wanda stepping out and glancing over Bucky’s shoulder, you see that she’s eyeing the house warily.  “There’s dark magic here,” she mutters.

“You really think we’ll be able to fix what’s been done to her using only light magic?” Bucky questions rhetorically.

The door opens upon your approach, the man on the other side taking one look at you before side stepping to allow Bucky inside.  “What in the world have you gotten yourself into this time, Barnes?”

“Where am I taking her?” Bucky asks, ignoring Sam’s question.

“Living room.”  Sam and Wanda have a small staring contest, sizing each other up before he lets her in too.

The scent of cedarwood and eucalyptus fills the air when Bucky steps into the living room and sets you down on the push red sofa.  He takes a seat next to you, tucking your body against his chest as he pushes your damp hair off your forehead.  “How are you feeling, Lumina?” he asks, his gaze worried as it washes over you.

“I’ve been better,” you try to joke, but your throat has become even more dry, your voice cracking.  You grimace at the pain of speaking.

“Alright.  Let me take a look,” Sam states, walking over.  He holds your face between his palms in a gentle grasp, his eyes surveying you for signs of what’s happened.  His hands, though warm, feel slightly cold in comparison to your heated flesh.  You can feel energy pulsing beneath his fingertips, but he doesn’t use any of it on you.  “You said she was given arachnae venom?” he asks Bucky, who nods in response.  “How?”

Bucky glances at you, not knowing the answer.

“Ingested,” you explain.  “He mixed it with holy water.”

If he’s shocked by your response, Sam doesn’t show it, maintaining the serious look on his face.  “Alright, so I’m assuming you’re experiencing stomach cramps, right?”

You nod.

“Any muscle cramping? Especially in the legs?”

You shake your head.  “No, not yet.”

He frowns slightly, releasing your face and taking a step back.  “Well the venom explains the faded skin tone, and cramping, but not the high fever or sweating.”

Bucky moves to lift up the sleeve of your shirt.  “They also marked her, but I’m not sure how.”

Sam’s face turns solemn when he looks at the mark.  “There’s only one thing that can cause a burn like that on a descendant.”  He eyes Bucky warily.

“And what’s that?” Bucky asks, despite the reserved look on his friend’s face.

“Hell fire.”

You feel Bucky’s body stiffen beside you.

“How would Rumlow even have access to Hell fire?” Wanda asks, joining the conversation for the first time.  She had recognized the possibility that that was the cause of your mark, she just didn’t understand how it could be possible.

“He’s a Castor,” you tell them, bringing their attention back to you.  “He’s hiding it from everyone at SHIELD.  Well, except Pierce.  He knows.”

Bucky releases a low growl. “Well that’s going to make killing him a hell of a lot harder.”

Sam releases a long sigh, one of his hands reaching back to rub at his neck as he tries to figure out what’s he’s going to have to do.  “James,” he calls softly, jerking his head toward the door that leads to the next room.

Bucky nods, understanding his meaning before he turns to you.  “I’ll be right back, Lumina,” he speaks softly, leaning in for a kiss against your temple.  He stands and follows Sam down the hall and into the kitchen.

Sam leans back against the counter.  “So what am I missing here?  Why are you helping her?”

Bucky crosses his arms over his chest defensively.  “Does it matter?”

Sam nods, “Yes. Potentially.  I need all the factors in this.  What does she mean to you?”

Bucky sighs, running a hand through his hair and lowering his gaze.  He knows he can trust Sam, he wouldn’t have brought you here if he didn’t. But Bucky didn’t like admitting his vulnerabilities, many of which he’d only discovered once you were ripped away from him.  It felt like someone had put their hand in his chest and ripped his still beating heart out.  He knew that he cared for you, more than anyone he’s met his whole life.  But he didn’t realize how much he  _needed_  you until you were gone.  Without you, he couldn’t even function.  He ceased to exist.  “She’s  _everything_ , Sam” he confesses sincerely, slowly lifting his gaze to meet his friend’s.

Sam holds his gaze for a long moment, reading every emotion that flickers over James’ face.  “Are you  _sure_  about that?” he asks, his voice steady and unrevealing.

Bucky’s gaze shifts away from the vulnerable state when he glares at Sam incredulously.  This is the most that Bucky has felt for anyone  _ever_ , and to see someone close to him questioning the validity of his feelings… it pissed him off.  “What do you mean am I sure?  I was ready to break into SHIELD for her.”

Sam uncrosses his arms and holds up his hands slightly as a peace offering.  “I’m not questioning you, James.  I just need you to be sure.  If the bond between you both is as strong as you’re saying it is, then it might be something we can use to help her.  It might be the  _only_  thing that will help her,” he explains.

Some of the tension leaves Bucky’s shoulders.  “What do you mean?”

Sam shifts from one foot to the other.  “In order to heal her, she’s going to need energy.   _A lot_  of energy.  You know that that’s the only way to combat the venom.”

Bucky’s jaw clenches to showcase his frustration.  “But we can’t get to the venom if her blood is fighting against mine the whole time.”

Sam nods slowly.  “Yes, that’s true.  The angelic energy will burn yours up long before it reaches the venom.”

“So what?” Bucky growls, throwing his hands out.  “Is there nothing we can do?”

Sam shakes his head, holding his hand to his chin in thought.  “Not necessarily.  If we combine your energies before the blood bond, it might prevent your bodies from resisting each other.”

That makes Bucky perk up a little, a small spark of hope igniting inside him.  “How?” he asks eagerly.

Sam looks at him seriously. “This is why I need you to be sure, Barnes.  If we do this, there’s no going back.”

Bucky nods readily.  “I’ll do anything for her, Sam.  Just tell me what it is.”

Sam hesitates for a beat, before revealing his solution.  “We’re going to have to perform a soul merge.”

Bucky blinks, taking in the information.  “A soul merge?” he repeats.

Sam nods.  “But you know the risks.  If it doesn’t work, both of you will die,” he states gravely, needing to get his point across.  “If it  _does_  work… your life will never be the same.”

Bucky thinks it over some more. “Is it even possible to merge the souls of a demon and a descendant?” he questions.  He didn’t think it was.

“Normally, I’d say no,” Sam starts with a slight tilt to his head.  “But you’ve got Talia’s blood running through your veins.  There  _might_  be enough human in you to link both of your human sides and allow for compatibility between your demonic and her angelic energies.  But even still, that’s only half the problem.  The bond between you both already has to be unbreakable for your souls to merge.  If there’s even the slightest reservation between either of you, your souls will clash and they’ll just leave your bodies, and then the two of you will die.”

Bucky shakes his head.  “There’s nothing to worry about on that end.  I’ll do whatever it takes to save her.  If this is the only way, I’ll do it in a heartbeat.”  His statement is final and Sam can tell there’s no changing his minds.

Sam releases a long breath, trying to mentally prepare himself for what’s to come.  “You’re damn lucky it’s a full moon tonight,” he mutters quietly.

“So you’ll perform the merge?” Bucky asks.

Sam wants to roll his eyes, but refrains.  “I wouldn’t have brought it up if I wasn’t going to do it.”

Bucky is quiet for a small moment, before his lips part.  “Thanks, Sam. This really means a lot to me,” he states earnestly.

Sam gives him a strange look. “What the hell has that girl done to you?  You’ve become a sap.”

Bucky laughs for what feels like the first time in ages, some of the tension easing from his shoulders.  “Now do you believe me when I say that this will work?”

The two move back to the living room, both you and Wanda looking up at their approach.  “Take her to the back bedroom to get ready while I set up,” Sam instructs.

Bucky nods before moving to lift you off the couch.  Before he steps out of the room, you see Sam turn to Wanda.

“How willing are you to be of help?  I’m going to need as much energy as I can to perform the ritual.”

Bucky steps into the hall and you don’t get a chance to hear Wanda’s response.  “Bucky, what’s going on?” you ask.

He steps into a modestly sized bedroom and sets you down on the edge of the queen-sized bed.  He kneels down between your legs, taking your hands in his where they rest on your lap.  “Sam and I discussed how we’re going to heal you,” he starts to explain.  “You and I are going to have to merge our souls together, so that your energy won’t fight against mine when it targets the venom.”

Your brow furrows as you tilt your head in confusion.  “Merge our souls?  Isn’t something like that permanent?”

Bucky frowns, he didn’t think  _you_  would be the one to have reservations about this.  “Yes. Are you okay with that?” he questions hesitantly.  His hands clench around yours slightly, his thumbs smoothing over the back of your palms.

“What happens if it doesn’t work?” you ask, your fear getting the best of you.

Bucky’s gaze softens in understanding.  It’s not the merge itself that’s giving you your reservations.  “It  _will_  work,” Bucky tries to side step your question and reassure you.

You eye him warily, his deviation not going unnoticed by you.  “James, what will happen if it doesn’t?”

He sighs dropping his gaze. There’s no getting around it.  He can’t lie to you.  “If it doesn’t work, then neither of us will make it.”

You shake your head, trying to pull your hands away from his.  “No.  I can’t let you do that.”

“And I can’t let you die!” Bucky insists, tightening his hold, so you can’t slip away.  You’ve already slipped through his fingers once, he wasn’t about to let that happen again.  “Lumina, I know that what I experienced while you were gone is  _nothing_  compared to what you went through.  But it made me realize that I  _can’t_  live my life without you.  I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t  _breathe_ , knowing that you were in their hands.  Not knowing if you’d make it.  Not knowing if we’d ever see each other again.  I need you like I need air.”

You watch incredulously as tears begin to slide down his cheeks.  “Bucky…” you feel your own eyes beginning to water.

“I can’t force you to do this, Lumina.  But if we don’t, I’m going to die with you anyway.  I’ve already promised you that there will never be anyone else.  I’d rather starve than touch the flesh of someone that isn’t you.”

A few of your tears spill over. “Bucky no…” your lips tremble as you attempt to argue with him.

He reaches a hand up to cup your cheek, wiping away your tears.  “It won’t come to that if you let me help you.  The merge  _will_  work.”

“How do you know?” the hand that still holds his clenches as tightly as your weakened muscles will allow.

“Because I love you.”

Your breath hitches in your chest as you question for a moment whether you heard him right.  Was it possible that arachnae venom can affect your hearing? “You do?” you find yourself asking.

“I do,” he confirms.  “That day after our last night together, when you told me how you felt.  I couldn’t stop thinking about it.  And how happy it made me to hear you saying it.  But then it hit me over the head like a baseball bat, that I was an idiot if I couldn’t admit to myself that I felt the same.  Never in my life have I felt the things that I feel when I’m with you. I was going to tell you that night you were coming back.  I couldn’t wait to tell you.”

The initial shock of his confession had stopped your tears for a short moment, but after his speech, you were a balling mess once again.  “Oh Bucky, I love you too!”  You lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He shifts positions, holding you close as he stands and takes your spot on the bed, so he can hold you in his lap. He buries his face into your hair while you cry against his shoulder.  “Let me do this for you, Lumina.  Let me protect the woman I love.”

You sniff, lifting your head up to meet his watery gaze.  Something between a sob and a laugh slips passed your lips.  “How can I say no to that?”

His hands frame your cheeks in a gentle grasp.  “You’re not supposed to.”

His touch is light as a feather as he wipes at your tears with his thumbs.  “Say it again,” you whisper quietly.

The light brightens in Bucky’s gaze when he recognizes the phrase he’d used when you had first told him how you felt. “I love you.”

You lean forward, pressing your lips to his.  He responds eagerly, unbothered by the wetness of your cheeks, as his are still damp anyways.  He does what he can to kiss away the pain that you’re feeling, to express his love for you as clearly and gently as possible.  The two of you separate reluctantly when there’s a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Bucky calls.

Sam enters, holding a folded white cloth in his arms, with some kind of necklace resting on top.  “Both of you will need to undress and change into these robes.  James, I need you to wear this amulet.”  He sets the robes on the bed before handing the amulet to Bucky.  “It’s a quartz spirit stone.  You need to channel as much of your energy into it as you can.  This is going to be the anchor for your souls. Without it, there’s a chance that a Loa could possess your bodies and prevent your souls from coming back.”

“Alright,” Bucky nods, taking the amulet and placing it around his neck.  The chunk of quartz is nearly as big as your fist, it’s attached to a silver chain, however, there’s also a small silver dagger piercing vertically through the center of the quartz, the blade no thicker than your finger and about three inches in length.

“Are you both ready?” Sam asks.

You and Bucky share a look of mutual understanding before you both nod together.

Sam steps back, beginning to move for the door.  “Alright. Then I’ll see you both outside.”

After the door has closed, Bucky shifts your body off his lap and sets you back down on the mattress.  He begins to remove your clothes, being careful not to touch the mark on your shoulder.  There’s not much for him to remove.  You’re still only wearing his shirt and shorts that you’d borrowed the day you left his hotel room.  Although the clothes are nearly unrecognizable from the rips in the cloth and all the dirt, sweat, and grime that’s built up on them.

The silk robe that he wraps around you is almost a startling cool against your heated skin.  It feels so soft and clean, you almost feel bad for dirtying it by allowing it to touch you.  Bucky tucks the fabric around your body and loosely ties it in place.  His lips brush a gentle kiss to your cheek before he stands and begins to remove his own clothes.

The amulet hangs at the center of his chest, swaying ever so slightly with his every movement.  After tying his own robe shut, he scoops your body back into his arms.  “Have faith, Lumina.  This will work.”

You somehow manage a small smile, your arms curling around his neck.  “I know.”


	13. Chapter 13

Bucky carries you through the house and out the back door.  As he steps onto the back deck, you release a soft gasp at the visual in front of you. A short pathway is lit by a row of candles and leads to a small lake, surrounded by the trees of the forest. The sun has set, turning the sky a navy blue, the full moon casting its silver glow across the center of the lake. As if the stars themselves have fallen into the water, tiny tealight candles sit in water lilies dotting the surface of the glassy lake.  The sight is absolutely breathtaking and you don’t understand how Sam and Wanda could have set it up so fast.

Bucky walks down the path. It’s not until you’re closer to the lake that you notice Sam and Wanda standing behind a large boulder.  The top has been carved into a flat surface, serving as an altar of sorts.  A large leather-bound book rests in the center, large cylindrical candles lit to either side. You notice the dark form perched on Sam’s shoulder as you approach.  Upon closer inspection, you see that it’s some type of bird of prey.  A falcon maybe?

Sam notices your curious gaze. “This is Redwing.  He’s my familiar.  I draw part of my power from him and he’ll also be here to guide your souls should one of you stray.”  The falcon’s feathers fluff out ever so slightly, as if he knows you’re talking about him.  “Wanda has agreed to handle the elemental aspects of the ritual, so I can focus entirely on the spiritual aspects.”  You glance briefly at her, but she avoids your gaze.  “James, go ahead and disrobe and take her into the water.”

Bucky nods.  He moves to set you down on a smaller set of boulders. Sam and Wanda avert their eyes when he pulls off his robe and then takes yours.  He lifts your naked form into his arms, his warmth encasing you in a cocoon. Ripples cascade across the surface of the water with each of Bucky’s steps as he moves toward the center of the lake.

“It’s warm,” you mutter quietly, your hand reaching out to touch it once the water level has reached high enough.

Bucky stops in the circle of the moon’s reflection on the water and then carefully lowers you down.  He keeps one arm firmly locked around your waist, as your feet settle against the silty bottom.  “You okay?” he asks you.

“Yeah,” you clutch his arms for support, but with the water surrounding you to your waist, standing has become easier.  You can already feel the healing energies in the water giving you some of your strength back, too.

With a voice that seems to fill the entire space, yet at the same time, doesn’t appear to be very loud at all, Sam begins his chant, reading from the tome.  It’s a language you don’t recognize at first.  There’s definitely an elegance and familiarity to it.  It almost sounds like French, but some words are something else entirely.  It takes a moment for you to realize that it’s Louisiana Creole French.  And you suddenly understand why Bucky brought you here.

You recall what Rumlow had told you while you were imprisoned.  The third class of magic wielders, the ones that practice both white and black magic.  The Bokors. Sam was a Voodoo Sorcerer.

It made sense.  Only the Voodoo practice can successfully pull out a soul without damaging the body.

The chanting continues as a light breeze starts to pick up, curling around your bodies and making your hair stand on end.  Bucky pulls you closer to him, tucking you against his chest, the amulet pressed between the two of you.  He lowers his head, whispering quietly into your ear.  “Sam is talking about each of the elements and what their purpose is for the ritual.  The water and wind are meant to be unifying, the fire cleansing, and the forest grounding. All are necessary for this to work. The harmonization of the elements will lead the merge to success,” he explains to you.

You smile up at him in thanks, glad he at least knows a little about what’s going on.

Over his shoulder, you watch as Sam grasps a simple looking stone and holds it to the sky.  He continues to speak and Bucky translates once more.  “He is unbinding the stone from it’s grounding earthly qualities.  He’ll throw it into the lake and when he does, our souls will become unbound too.”

You release a shaky breath, realizing that this is it.  That this is really happening.

“Y/N, you have to trust me that this is going to work.  You have to  _believe_  it.  If there’s any doubt inside you, then it won’t,” Bucky urges.

You meet his gaze, your hands clenching around his arms.  “I do. I trust you.”

It’s then that you hear the splash of the stone hitting the surface of the water and everything seems to shift.  Your body goes limp and Bucky has to catch you before you sink beneath the water.  

“Y/N?” Bucky calls.  “Lumina!”  He feels the panic growing in his chest when you don’t respond.  Looking around briefly for some sort of explanation, the first thing he notices is that half of the tealight candles in the lake have gone out. “Sam, what’s happening?!” he cries out, looking back down at your face for any signs of life.

Sam flips through a few pages of his book.  “She was already so weak.  The venom must have made her body eject her soul instead of simply unbinding it.  Red, go look for her.”

The falcon on his shoulder spreads its wings before taking off.  He soars through the night sky, disappearing into the bright light of the moon.

“Lumina,” Bucky whispers, cradling your body against him, one arm around your waist while his other hand holds the back of your head.  “Come back to me, my love.  Focus on me. Please don’t leave me.  Not again.”

“James, give her the amulet. We have to protect her body while Redwing searches for her soul,” Sam advises.

Bucky pulls the long chain over his head and places the necklace over yours.  The amulet is still pressed between the two of you, the white quartz pulsing with his energy.  He can feel his own soul attempting to leave his body now that it’s become unbound. He tries desperately to hold onto it, focusing on the energy within the amulet.  The anchor.  If he manages to lose the small thread of a hold he has, it’ll all be over.

The sharp falcon cry is heard overhead before Redwing reappears.  A glowing white orb is clutched between his talons as he darts down toward the lake. Angling his wings to the side, he flies in a circle, the very tips of his feathers ghosting over the water’s surface. Straightening out, he rushes toward Bucky’s back.  The familiar passes right through the both of you.

Right after he does, you take in a gasping breath, your back arching.  All the tealight candles that had gone out suddenly burst into life.

“Lumina!” Bucky breathes in relief.  He pulls your body even closer until your mouths meet.

Your mind is a little fuzzy from your near-death experience, but the longer your body is pressed to Bucky’s, the more you begin to  _feel_  him.  Not just where his skin is pressed to yours, but you can feel the heart beating in his chest, the blood running through his veins, the breath filling his lungs.  It’s like you’re standing in his body; a more intimate connection than anything you’ve felt with him before.

But then you begin to see flashes of images in your head.  A young boy holding hands with a beautiful woman.  A rambunctious teenager running around with his friends.  A young man entering into adulthood.  And you realize these aren’t just any images.  They’re memories.   _Bucky’s_  memories.

You transition quickly through the most important events of his life, some things flashing by so quickly, you don’t even get the chance to process them before they’re gone.  But then you see yourself, the night you walked into the club.  The first night Bucky ever saw you, and everything seems to stop.

For the first time, you actually see yourself the way Bucky sees you.  You’re glowing.  You’re gorgeous, absolutely captivating.  You never imagined that you’d meet someone that looks at you the way he does.  And yet, here he is standing right before you.

The flames of the candles begin to grow, pulsing in harmony like a heartbeat.  They grow until tiny orbs of light begin to break off, the flames no longer able to contain them.  They flit about in lazy circles, each flame dissolving into hundreds of tiny orbs.  You only notice what’s happening when the light from them increase so much, you can see it behind your closed eyes.

You pull out of the kiss, your eyes blinking open.  You notice the orbs of light reflecting in Bucky’s eyes first, before you look around.

“Fireflies?” you question. You reach your hand out when one flies close.  It lands at the center of your palm, tickling your skin slightly, the heat coming off of it is warm and comforting.

“Born from the flames of the candles.  They represent a new beginning,” Bucky explains, watching the firefly walk across your hand before it buzzes off once more.  “ _Our_  new beginning.”

You pull your hand back, placing it against his shoulder as you look up at him in adoration.  “So it worked?”

His gaze softens, his hand moving to cradle your jaw, just beneath your ear.  “I’m yours, Lumina.  Forever.”

You nuzzle into his palm.  “Forever and always.”

“Remove the dagger from the amulet, James,” Sam calls out to you both.

You look down, only now realizing that you wear the necklace.  Bucky carefully releases you from his hold, only after he’s sure you’ll be able to stand on your own.  He holds the chunk of quartz in one hand and carefully removes the dagger from the crystal.

“This is going to sting a little,” Bucky warns you as he holds his empty hand out, palm open.

You place your hand in his without hesitation, “It’s alright.”

Using the dagger, he cuts a line down the center of your palm.  He works quickly to slice his own palm, so you won’t lose too much blood. And then he joins your hands together. “One soul, one body,” he whispers to you.

You thread your fingers through his.  You’re not sure if it’s instinct that drives your movements, or what, but you find yourself removing the amulet from around your neck and you wrap the chain around your joined hands.  As you hold the quartz in place with your free hand, Bucky places the dagger back inside, sealing the deal.

You intake a sharp breath, feeling his energy flowing into you.  It’s white hot, but instead of burning, it seems to soothe, like feeling heat on aching muscles.  The heat travels up your arm before filling your whole body.  It reminds you of the first time you met, the way his heat seemed to fill your entire being with warmth.

Bucky feels your energy filling his veins.  He expected it to hurt, even with the merge.  Demon and angel wasn’t really supposed to mix well.  But it actually felt kind of nice.  He could feel some of his depleted energy reserves starting to charge, like he was experiencing a transference.  He could feel his love for you growing to impossible lengths as your humanity thrives within him.

His free arm wraps around you once more, pulling you in for another kiss.  Your lips mold perfectly, like they were designed to do so, like the cracked pieces of a whole fitting back into place after being apart for too long. The pain that had once felt excruciating in your bones began to ease away.  It felt like a hundred pounds lifting from your shoulders.  Even the burn from your mark didn’t seem to hurt as much.

You feel the wind beginning to circle around you, the water churning softly in its wake.  Pulling back, you realize the fireflies have begun to circle you both in a frenzy.  Thousands of tiny lights merging into one massive movement, before they shoot toward the sky.  The yellow light merges with the white of the moon, before they explode outward and disappear among the stars.

The water lily candles have all gone out, the ritual concluded.  Bucky waits a second before he begins to remove the amulet from your joined hands. Once the chain has fallen away, he releases your palm, curling his hand around the backside, so he can take a look.

“It’s gone…” you marvel, looking at your perfectly healed palm, not even a trace of blood left behind. You move your hand around his, so you can check his palm, but it too is unscathed.

“It’s part of the bonding process, to ensure the right amount of blood gets transferred over, without things going too far.”

Your fingers trace gently across the lines on his palm before moving up and following the veins on his wrist. Veins that now hold  _your_  blood.  “So what happens now?” you question, looking back up at him.

You don’t miss the way his eyes darken as your fingers continue to brush against his skin.  “Now, you experience your first transference.”


	14. Chapter 14

“Are you sure you have enough energy for this? Will it even work?” you ask as Bucky sets you down on the mattress. You look up at him with worry lining your features, you may have gone through hell and back, but he hasn’t fed since you’ve been gone, either.

He crawls forward and sits on his knees, pulling your body into his lap.  “Only one way to find out.”

“Bucky, what if I hurt you?” You place your hands on his shoulders to stop him when he tries to pull your hips closer.

“You won’t,” he assures you.

“But what if I draw too much energy?”

“You  _won’t_ ,” he repeats a little more firmly.

“But-”

“Lumina,” he cuts you off, hands squeezing encouragingly at your hips.  “You can do this.  Your instincts will guide you.  And I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth.  “But what if you pass out,” you ask timidly.

He chuckles, grinning crookedly. “Then I’ll congratulate you when I wake up.”

You give him an unamused look. “That’s not funny.”

Your words only prove to make his smile widen.  He leans forward and places a quick peck on your nose.  “You’ll be fine, Lumina.  I promise. This will complete your transition. Besides, you need the transference to heal the last of your injuries.  Your blood has given me enough energy to do this for you.  It’ll work.”

You release a shaky breath, you can feel yourself conceding to him despite your reservations.  “Alright.”

You run your fingers across his shoulder and down his chest.  You work your way down the planes of bare skin until your hand wraps around his already half hardened cock.  Bucky comes to life at your touch, a deep groan rumbling out of his chest.  “God I missed you,” he breathes, leaning his head down and burying his face against your neck.

You run your free hand through his hair, cradling the back of his head against you.  “Missed you too, Buck.”

He uses his nose to tilt your chin up slightly, giving him access to run his lips across your neck.  You continue to give him lengthened strokes, feeling the prickling of awareness develop in your core the longer you have your hands on him.  It’s almost like you’re teasing yourself; having him so close to where you want him most, but denying yourself that pleasure.  You feel that throb of heat between your legs; the flush of wetness as your body  _begs_  to be filled.

The veins in Bucky’s cock pulse beneath your fingertips, his body just as desperate as yours.  You trail your hand down his length and passed his base, gentling cupping his balls against your palm.  His hips involuntarily jerk forward and you feel his shaky breath against you neck.

“You trying to end things before they’ve even started, Lumina?” he releases a low groan when you squeeze him teasingly.

You nip playfully at the shell of his ear.  “Just wanna feel you.”

You can feel the muscles in his thighs tense beneath you has he tries to fight his body’s reactions to your touch.  He’s so sensitive to you that it’s almost too much.  His fingers dig into your hips, pulling you closer.  “Lumina,  _please_ ,” he huffs before giving you a responding nip against the hollow of your throat.

You bite your bottom lip, releasing a small whimper.  Having mercy on the both of you, you lift up slightly onto your knees.  Rocking your hips forward, you align him with your entrance, his head gliding easily against your slick folds.  You feel a rush of new wetness between your thighs as your body thrums in anticipation of his closeness.  It sends a shiver running up your spine.  You were used to your body opening up to his during your initial coupling, but this was an entirely new sensation.  He’d barely even touched you and your body was already keening for his.

When normally you would have prepared him a little by coating him in your slick, you find yourself just sinking down on him and going without.  That seems to have been the right thing to do, when just his very tip seems to send a bolt of lightning through your whole system.

Bucky must have felt it too, you realize when he jumps slightly from the shock before he jerks forward and fills you with one solid thrust.

“Oh Go-  _Ah_!” your words transition to a loud moan, the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt in your life sending you into a frenzy.  Heat rushes through every vein and nerve ending in your whole body.  It’s like sinking into a hot bath after a day in the snow.  Your body feels encompassed in warmth and security.  And the feeling only heightens when you feel Bucky’s hands against your back, pulling your body closer to his.  The two of you shudder, completely wrapped around each other.

You release a stuttering breath. “Is this what it’s like for you every time?” you question breathlessly, wondering if this is an Incubus reaction.

His face remains firmly planted against your neck as he shakes his head.  “No.  This is the merge,” he explains, his voice tense with restraint.  “One soul, one body.  Our souls will forever be locked together, so now when our bodies become one, it’ll feel like this.”  You can feel his thighs trembling slightly.  “Fuck, you feel so good, Lumina,” he huffs, his breath fanning across your neck.

“Bucky…” you whine quietly, basking in the feeling of being connected to him so intimately.

“Just give me a sec, sweetheart,” he groans when you shift your hips ever so slightly.

You do your best to keep still, but your muscles seem to ache the longer you don’t move, especially between your thighs.  You gently tug at his hair to get him to lift his head.  Your eyes wash over his face, noticing the tension in his brow as he tries to gain control over his body.  You cradle his jaw in your hands and pepper kisses across his face until the tension begins to ease away.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispers to you as your lips brush against his jaw.

You pull back, looking at him with all the tenderness and warmth in the world.  “I love you too, Buck.”  Leaning back in, you capture his mouth.  You muffle each other’s moans as the bond between you two only seems to heighten further.  You can feel your energies mixing, the two of you becoming one in every sense of the word.

Bucky’s hands glide down your back until he’s cupping the globes of your ass.  He encouragingly rocks your hips forward, giving you the okay to start moving.  You roll your hips experimentally, feeling the way he shifts inside you.  Even the smallest movement seems to make the pleasure more intense.  It’s like a ripple effect, starting at your core and moving outward until your hair is standing on end.

His tongue dips into your mouth, the taste of him making you see colors.  He’s always had a unique taste, but now it was like you were experiencing him on a whole new level.  Flavors you didn’t even know existed burst against your tongue.  Scents so pure and satisfying fill your lungs.  The touch of your fingers against his skin is so smooth, and the awareness of his hands on you makes you tingle.  The sounds of your mixed moans and labored breaths a symphony to your ears.  Everything that was Bucky could make your head spin before, but now it felt like you were flying.

This was more than sex and even more than love making.  This was the result of merging two souls to form one.  A bond so unbreakable, it could surpass the impossible.  You’d give absolutely anything to this man.  And now you’ve given him the only thing of value that you possessed.  Yourself. And he was more than willing to do the same for you.

“Oh Bucky!” you sigh, your head tilting back in a moan as he begins to drive up into you.

“Lumina, you need to start concentrating on the transference.  I can feel your body trying to give up its energy instead of you taking mine.”  A crease develops in his brow as he tries to keep his focus, so he can guide you properly.

Your own brow furrows, your hands clenching his shoulders.  “What do I do?”

“Can you feel my energy?” he pants, hooking an arm around your waist and pushing your chest flush to his. The more skin on skin contact the easier the transference will be for you.

“Yes,” you respond.

“Concentrate on pulling it in. Feel it consuming you.”

You release a soft gasp as you do what he says and you begin to take in his energy to feed yours.  A sort of heat settles deep in your belly, like when you drink your favorite hot beverage on a cold day.  It’s like feeling the afterglow of sex while you’re still in the middle of it.  Like pure satisfaction seeping into your blood.

“That’s my girl,” Bucky praises when he feels it working.  “Shit, you’re a natural,” his jaw goes slack, eyes falling shut as the pleasure of your newfound succubus energy overwhelms him.

“Don’t pass out on me, Bucky,” you warn mildly.

He chuckles breathlessly. “I won’t.  But I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer either.”  He takes over a majority of the thrusting, leaving you to bounce on his lap and just relish in how deep he hits you.  “Most of the transference will occur during climax,” he explains.  “The moment you hit your capacity for energy needs to match with your peak.  Ready?”

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip before nodding hesitantly.  You didn’t really trust your voice and you were still scared you were going to mess this up.

Bucky lifts your body and raises up onto his knees before gently lowering you onto your back with your head against the pillows.  “You can do this, Lumina.  I trust you,” he tells you sincerely.

Now that he has the leverage, Bucky strengthens his thrusts, guiding the both of you to new heights. His energy begins to pour into you at a steady rate and it makes your muscles feel like they’re turning to jelly. “Oh, James.   _Oh!_ ”

“Stay with me, Lumina.”  He drives his thrusts harder and deeper, filling your body with each snap of his hips.  “Fuck.  ‘M not gonna…” he doesn’t even get to finish before his entire world explodes.  His groan of pleasure vibrates throughout the whole room as he spills into you.

You feel his white hot energy surging forth, filling you to the brim.  The suddenness of it is what drives your own climax.  You weren’t expecting it to be so potent, so thick. You could actually feel the very essence of him merging into you, like when the river meets the sea.  It quenches a thirst you didn’t even know you had.

The two of your revel in the gratifying fulfillment of hitting your release together.  The transference, the soul merge, and the blood bond work in harmony to create pleasure so intense; it propels you both into the stars. You never imagined sex with Bucky being better than it already had been, but this was completely indescribable. The was destiny.  Pure fate.  The stars finally aligning.

This was the rest of your life.

The two of you remain wrapped around each other until you’ve both come down from your highs.  Bucky carefully sinks his hips back before promptly collapsing onto his back next to you.  “Damn.  That was pretty fucking incredible,” he huffs, more out of breath than usual.  “M’ already getting sleepy, though,” he chuckles with droopy eyes.

You turn onto your side to face him, pushing up onto an elbow.  “Did I take too much?” you ask in slight worry.

He smiles reassuringly, “Nah. You were perfect.  I’m just gonna need a short nap to recover.  I’ve got your blood in me now, so that should help…” He’s barely finished speaking before his eyes close and his breaths even out.

“Bucky?” you call, placing your hand on his chest.

But he’s definitely out for the night.  Your worry fades slowly when you make sure he continues to breathe.  You then find an oddly self-satisfied smile beginning to grow on your lips.  You actually managed to get Bucky Barnes the  _Sex God_ to pass out after your first successful transference.  It was kind of empowering.

You push yourself out of bed and pad over to the joined bathroom to clean up.  Bringing a wash cloth back with you, you take care of him too.  You pull the blankets in place before crawling under them to join him.  You curl your body around his, having to tuck his arm around your waist, because he’s too passed out to do it himself.

You give yourself one last moment to watch over him as he sleeps.  “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me Bucky.  I don’t know what I’d do without you.”  Leaning down, you place a sweet kiss against his lips before you rest your head on his chest and fall asleep to the steady rise and falls of his breaths.


	15. Epilogue

You’re the first one awake in the morning, which is also a new experience.  It gives you a little time to allow your mind to catch up to everything.  So much has happened in such a short time span, and you’d honestly been too delirious from pain to really understand most of it.  You almost couldn’t believe that half of the things that happened last night legitimately happened.  Or that they even _worked_.  With Bucky’s blood now running through your system, you felt better than you’d felt your whole life.  Like SHIELD never happened.

But then again… no amount of physical healing or recovery would ever change the fact that you had; in fact, been tortured by a SHIELD operative.  By a castor.  The things he did.  The pain you felt.  It would  _always_  be burned into your memories.  Always be a part of you.  The mark on your shoulder would remain a testament to the time you spent there.  A horrible reminder that even though you escaped… it wasn’t unscathed.

Before you can dwell on it much longer, you hear Bucky’s breathing change as he begins to awaken.  His arm tightens around your waist as he inhales sharply.  You lift your head up slightly, resting your chin against his chest so you can look up at him.  His eyes blink open, a sleepy grin spreading across his lips when he meets your gaze.  “Damn, you’re good, sweetheart.  Knocked me out like a light.”  He reaches his free hand up to cover his yawn before tucking that arm back behind his head. “How are you feeling?”

You force out a small smile. “Physically, I’m fine.”

You watch his gaze dip down slightly.  “How’s your shoulder?”

The fraction of a smile drops as you follow his gaze.  “Well, it doesn’t hurt anymore,” you respond.

“That’s good.  Hell fire doesn’t affect demons, so our blood bond was supposed to help with that.  I’m glad it did.”  Your gaze lifts back up to meet his and he gives you a tilted smile.  “And now we match,” he jokes lightly.

His words seem to have the opposite effect of what he’d intended; though, when instead of smiling or laughing, your lips begin to tremble and tears well in your eyes.  “I  _hate_  it,” you mutter thickly.

Bucky frowns, his brow furrowing in concern.  “Lumina…” He moves his hand from behind his head to reach for you.

His fingers have barely brushed against your arm when you jerk back.  “Don’t!” you scream when he gets too close to the mark for your comfort. You turn away from him, rolling on your side so the mark can be tucked against the sheets out of sight, and you clutch your arm to your chest, curling into a ball.

Bucky sits up cautiously, watching you with sadness and worry.  “Y/N, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to startle you,” he speaks as calmly as he can.  His heart wrenches when he sees your body shake with quiet sobs. He wants nothing more than to comfort you, but he fears he might make things worse if he does.

“I thought I was gonna die, Buck,” you whisper brokenly.

He hesitantly reaches his hand out, carefully pushing your hair out of your face and curling it behind your ear.  “I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

He watches your eyes squeeze shut, a few tears slipping out.  “They tried to make me hate you.  I was so scared they were going to succeed.”

Bucky can feel some of your pain and fear through the new bond you both share and it eats at him alive.  “I’m so sorry I couldn’t get you out of there sooner, Lumina.  I felt so useless.”

You manage to curl yourself into an even tighter ball.  “Please don’t let them take me again, Bucky,” you sob quietly.

He moves slowly to curl himself around you, letting his body heat surround you like a cocoon.  When he feels you lean slightly back against him, he takes that as an okay to wrap his arms around you.  “They’re never touching you again, Lumina.  I’ll rip them all apart before that ever happens.”

Reaching for the arm wrapped around your waist, you follow the length of it down until you’re intertwining your fingers with his.  You give his hand a firm squeeze, “I just want to forget everything that happened… But it’s like I can’t stop playing it in my mind.”

Bucky squeezes your fingers back, tucking your body against his.  “I know.  I’ve been exactly where you are Lumina.  But I promise, you’re not alone in this.  If there’s anything that I can do for you, just ask.”

You let his words wash over you, pulling strength from him that you simply can’t find in yourself right now.  “Just hold me.”

He tucks his face against your neck, holding you as tight as possible without making you uncomfortable. “I’m never letting you go.”

And as promised, Bucky holds you in his embrace while you cry out the emotions that have built up since your capture.  You let the dam break, feeling a rush of emotions all at once as they pour out of you like an open wound.  You mourn for the blissfully innocent life you’d once had.  Life would never be the same.  You now had to carry the weight of the physical and emotional scars from your encounter.

Bucky is patient with you, letting your emotions and tears run their course.  He remembers what it was like to have to go through all of this. And he’d done it alone.  He’d be damned if he made you go through it on your own as well.

When your tears finally begin to slow and you start to feel a little more like yourself, you turn around to face Bucky, burying your face in his neck and throwing your arm around him. “Sorry.  I can’t seem to get a hold of myself.”

You feel the brush of his lips against your forehead.  “You have nothing to apologize for, Lumina.  You’ve been through so much.  It’s okay that’s you’re not okay.”

You breathe in his scent, letting it wash over you and calm you down.  “I think I was also scared that I was going to wake back up over there.  That last night had been a dream.  Honestly, it  _still_ feels like a dream.”

His hand comes up to gently cradle your jaw, lifting your gaze to meet his.  “Can you do me a favor, Lumina?”  He waits for your nod before continuing.  “Close your eyes and look inside yourself.”

You give him a slightly confused look before doing as he’d asked.

“Look into the depths of your very being and try to find me.”

He watches your brow furrow as you try to concentrate, a slight frown tilting your lips.  But then he feels a sort of tug deep inside himself, and he knows you’ve found it.

The crease between your brow eases, your eyes blinking open.  “Is that you?” you question.  There’s a soft warmth that seems to surround your very soul.  It’s protective and strong and everything that  _is_  Bucky.

He gives you a small genuine smile, his thumb caressing your cheek.  “We’re linked now.  For all eternity.  If you ever find yourself questioning reality, or in need of comfort, no matter how far apart we are physically, all you have to do is look inside yourself to find me, and I’ll be there.”

Relief and gratitude fills you as you look up at the man that’s given you everything you hold dear.  “I love you, Bucky.”

His smile widens, “I love you, too.  My beautiful, brave and strong Lumina.”

You rub your fingers against the light layer of stubble on his jaw.  “I’ve been such a mess this morning, I haven’t even asked if you’re okay.”

His gaze softens, “I’m alright. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Don’t you need to feed?” You can’t help  _but_  worry about him.

He chuckles lightly.  “I think normal food will work just fine for this.”

You tilt your head curiously. “Exactly how much has the blood bond changed us?  Will you need to feed at all anymore?  Will  _I_  need to feed?”

“I think that’s something we’re going to have to figure out as we go.  Your angel blood prevents you from turning into a full succubus, but considering the success of last night, you have enough in you to perform a transference. I don’t think you’ll be quite as dependent on it as I was.  I don’t think  _I’m_  as dependent on it now either.”

Your eyes glaze over as you think about the possible outcomes of your new bond.  “If I can now use energy transference, does that mean that you’ve gained descendent abilities?”

Bucky shrugs his shoulder.  “I don’t really know.  It’s not like something like this happens every day.  Soul merges are pretty rare to begin with, yet alone successful ones.  And then we combined ours with a blood bond, which also doesn’t particularly happen. The outcome of such bonds are different every time, depending on how strong the connection was between the two people in the first place, and what species were involved.  We’ll just have to see what happens.”

“Wait, so what exactly is the difference between a soul merge and a blood bond?” you ask to try to clear some of your confusion.

“The blood bond is what allows you to use my abilities.  It combined our demon and descendent sides.  The soul merge is a more intimate and fundamental bond.  It’s meant for two people that are ready and willing to spend the rest of their lives together.  We share one soul now; soulmates in a literal sense.  We’re basically mated for life.”

You stare at him in slight surprise.  “Mated for life?”

His lips draw into a frown as he takes in your expression.  “…Yeah. Are you okay with that?”

“Are you?  Doesn’t this go against the very nature of an incubus?”

His unease lessens and his gaze softens.  “If I hadn’t been sure, it wouldn’t have worked and we wouldn’t be here having this discussion.”

You hum thoughtfully, your gaze flickering over his face.  “Well, I guess I can get used to the thought of being stuck with you for the rest of my life,” you tease.

Bucky’s gaze narrows.  “Excuse me?”  In seconds, he has you pinned on your back, his body hovering over yours. “You wanna repeat that?”

You laugh freely, “Not particularly, no.”  You know you’ll just dig yourself into a deeper hole.

Bucky’s demeanor breaks when his lip twitches, but he fights to maintain his composure.  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

You can’t even attempt to feign innocence as you laugh.  It feels good to laugh.  Your hands run up his back, feeling the familiar plains and stretches of corded muscle.  “We should probably get some food in you, Buck,” you tell him when your laughter eases.

His eyes flicker down to your lips, becoming hooded.  “Can I just eat you?” he asks, head tilting down just enough to brush his nose against yours.

“Didn’t realize you’ve started resorting to cannibalism,” you tease once more.  “I think you’re taking that ‘one soul one body’ thing a little too literally.”

His eyes shine with amusement before his head dips and he starts a trail of kisses down your neck.  “Maybe, but I already know how good you taste.”  His tongue then darts out, licking a long stripe across your collar bone.

“Ew Bucky!” you shriek, pushing him off of you.

He laughs boisterously, falling onto his back next to you.  “What’s the matter?  You don’t seem to mind when I’ve got my tongue  _elsewhere_  on your body.”  He grins unashamed.

You feel your blood heat at his words.  “We need to get  _actual_  food in you, James” you try to insist.

Sitting up, you move for the edge of the bed.  Bucky sits up, too; however, and quickly wraps an arm around your waist to pull you back.  “If I eat my breakfast like a good boy, will you let me have dessert?” he whispers huskily into your ear.

The shiver and goose bumps give you away as you try to hold control over your body.  “Bucky, we’re not the only two in this household,” you try to reason.

He chuckles darkly, “I’m sure they might be willing to watch, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You roll your eyes and push yourself out of his hold.  “You’re incorrigible.”  Moving to the dresser in the corner, you quickly riffle around and grab something to cover yourself before Bucky can get any more ideas.  You also toss a pair of lounge pants his way, which he catches with ease.  “Let’s go eat, Barnes,” you tell him once you’re dressed.

“Yes, ma’am.”  He smirks as he moves toward you, linking your fingers before leaving the room.  “You know, I kind of like it when you order me around.  We’ll have to try that some more.”

You send him a look of warning to behave before you both enter the kitchen.

“Look who finally decided to get up,” Sam laughs from his position at the stove, where he’s cooking what suspiciously smells like bacon.

“Morning, Sam,” Bucky greets, releasing your fingers to steal a strip straight from the pan.

Sam glowers at his friend, but does nothing to try to take the bacon back.  His gaze drifts to you, “How are you feeling this morning?”

You give him a small smile. “Everything worked perfectly, thank you for all your help.”

“Happy to be of service. But your boyfriend now owes me big time.”

Bucky nods sincerely.  “I know.  But I always handle my debts.”

“You do,” Sam agrees.  “Which is why our friendship works so easily. Under different circumstances, I’d probably hate you.”

Bucky smirks openly, finishing off the last bite of his bacon.

“So, where’s Wanda?” you find yourself asking.  Even though you haven’t really forgiven her yet, you know you should at least thank her for her help last night.

“She’s outside with the other one,” Sam comments, turning back to the bacon.

You watch Bucky tense.  “What other one?” he asks dangerously.

“The guy that showed up last night.  Wanda seemed to know him, so I didn’t really question it.  Don’t know when you started hanging around Nephilim, though.”

Bucky is out the door before you can even blink.  You try to rush after him, calling his name.  By the time you’re outside, Bucky is only a few short paces from where Steve and Wanda are talking.  The blonde turns his head just in time to meet Bucky’s fist.

“Son of a-” Steve shouts, reeling back and holding a hand to his nose when blood begins to poor out.

“That’s the  _least_  of what you fucking deserve!  If anything had happened to her-”

“Bucky, stop!” you push yourself between them, hands on his chest to get him to step back.

He doesn’t fight against you, but he also doesn’t allow you to push him too far away.  “You were my best fucking friend in high school.  But then when I transitioned at 19, you joined SHIELD and let those fuckers brainwash you!  When you came to me to help you with Talia, I thought that maybe they hadn’t wiped everything out of you.  That  _maybe_  my friend was still in there.  But after all of this shit?  I’m done.”

“James,” Steve’s voice is thick as he tries to speak around his likely broken nose.  “I swear, I didn’t know what they were doing to her.”

Bucky’s glare only hardens. “I don’t give a fuck anymore.  Do whatever the hell you want, Rogers.  But stay away from my sister and my mate.” He turns to stalk back toward the house, the tension never leaving his shoulders.

“What are you going to do?” Steve calls after him.

Bucky pauses at the door.  “I’m gonna figure out how to rip apart Rumlow and Pierce.”  He glances back over his shoulder, his gaze cold, “And I don’t care if I have to destroy SHIELD in order to do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel coming soon - Descendent


End file.
